Harry Potter and the QuadriWizard Tournament
by YoungWriter20
Summary: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Durmstrang Institute. Salem Institute for the Magically Gifted. Let's see what happens when we add in one more school into 4th year Tournament.
1. Prologue: Dreams of Times Past and Futur

**Hello, one and all! I'm finally back! So, I have take some of the reviews to heart and I have been looking over what I have written. And I can be honest when I say that it has been all over the place. And some of the ideas presented in the chapters? Yikes! So, I will be replacing the chapters with rewritten chapters every few weeks. Hopefully, it will make for a much more engaging and exciting story. So, without further ado...**

 ** Prologue: Dreams of Times Past and Future**

The black-haired youth was standing in the archway, looking down into the chamber. 'Oh, not this again…' Harry thought, trying to back out of the chamber. His feet did not listen to him. They only carried him further into the chamber. Coming down the steps, he saw a turbaned man standing, looking into a mirror. Looking at the mirror for a minute, Harry recognized the Mirror of Erised.

'Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing…' Harry pleaded himself, but again, his body didn't listen.

"Professor Quirrel?"

The man spun around, looking terrified. Upon seeing Harry, he seemed to change to a hostile look for a moment, before it changed back to a worried expression.

"M-Mr. P-Potter? W-w-what are you d-doing down here?"

"What are you doing down here, Professor?" Harry countered, making eye contact with Quirrel. He was silent for a brief moment, before replying, "I was t-t-trying to k-keep the s-stone away from P-Professor S-S-Snape."

'How did I ever believe that?' Harry thought, as his voice replied, "Can I help you at all, Professor?"

"Y-yes, I'm h-having a spot of trouble getting p-past this f-final obstacle. Could you help me?" Quirrel responded, wringing his wrists nervously. Harry looked into the mirror. He saw himself and Quirrel, before he noticed his reflection was moving. His reflection slowly put its hand in its pocket, before pulling out the blood-red stone. Harry's eyes widened, as his reflection put the stone back in its pocket. Then, Harry felt a sudden weight in his pocket.

"What do you see?" Quirrel almost yelled, his usual stutter missing, causing Harry to jump. He reached into his pocket. 'No, no, no…'

"I've got it, Professor." He said, pulling out the stone and showing it to him.

"Good, now, give it to me." Quirrel said, extending his hand, "I can keep it safe."

"I can give it to Professor Dumbledore."

"Potter, give me the stone." Quirrel said again, a certain small greed entering his look. Harry brought his hand back. Quicker than he had ever moved, Quirrel's wand was in his hand, pointed unflinchingly at Harry. "Give me the stone, boy! Now!"

Harry turned and tried to run, as a high voice called, "Stop him!"

A wall of fire rose in front of the arch Harry was running towards, the wall quickly encircling the chamber. Turning, he saw Quirrel hurtling towards him, literally flying through the air, his arms outstretched. His reflexes taking over, Harry rolled underneath the man, trying to get away.

"Accio Potter!"

Harry felt a great force yank him backwards to Quirrel, spining him to face the man. His gloved hand closed around Harry's throat. Harry immediately began choking and tried to pry his hand off. "You will not live this time, boy!" Quirrel and the voice said together.

"Quirrel," the voice hissed again, "Let me see the boy."

"Master?"

"I want to…watch…him die."

Using his free hand, Quirrel began to unravel his turban. As it unraveled, Harry's scar twinged in pain, until the turban was completely off and Quirrel turned his head, letting Harry see the back of his head…where there was another face! Harry was stunned, and stopped fighting for a moment.

"Harry Potter…It has been a long time…" The face said, taking deep, rasping breaths.

"Who are you?"

"Do you not…remember me? It has been…a little less than…ten years since…we last met."

Harry did some quick mental math and his eyes widened at the revelation.

"Voldemort."

"Yes…You defied me once…You will not…do so again." He rasped, the hand tightening. Harry's vision began to go dark, with spots erupting behind his eyelids. Harry flailed in the darkness, before feeling them hit something, followed by a scream of pain. The hands disappeared from around his throat, and his eyes flew open. The screaming continued, and Harry realized that it was coming from Quirrel and Voldemort.

"What is this, Master?" Quirrel asked, terrified, as his neck turned to stone, the transformation creeping up his face, and down the rest of his body

"Fool…get the stone!"

Quirrel grabbed his wand, back away from Harry. "Accio Stone!" He yelled. Harry felt his pants pulled towards Quirrel, the summoning spell ripping the stone from his pants. Thinking fast, he grabbed the Stone, desperate to keep it away from Quirrel. He was wrenched off his feet, flying at Quirrel. Quirrel's eyes widened, as Harry wound up and punched him in the face, the force assisted by the summoning spell. Quirrel screamed again, steam rising from where Harry's hand had hit Quirrel, the skin turning to a cracked stone. The screaming cut off as Quirrel's transformed formed body crumbled to sand. Harry fell back, landing hard, as smoke rose from the sand covered robes. Harry quickly jumped to his feet, as Voldemort's face showed itself in the smoke and lunged at Harry, an unearthly scream coming from his mouth…

The scene changed, morphing itself so that now, it was an enormous snake lunging at him. 'This goddamn thing…' Harry thought. Lurching to the side, he took off down a side tunnel, before winding through tunnels, as his footsteps and the splashing of the water echoed off the walls. He came to a grating, trapping himself as the serpent snaked by behind him.

Harry went completely still, willing himself to go unnoticed. It passed him, hissing loudly. Harry stood there for a couple seconds after the serpent passed, its blinded eyes leaving a trail of blood on the floor and along its scaled body. Moving stealthily through the tunnels, Harry made his way back to a massive chamber. Large, stone snake heads seemed to come from the walls, acting as pillars holding the ceiling up. A high, cold laugh sounded off the walls as Harry turned to look at who it was. Tom Riddle stood there, Ginny lying still in the filth and grime of the chamber.

"Did you honestly believe that you, a pathetic Gryffindor, could ever rival the beast of the great Salazar Slytherin?" Tom crowed triumphantly. "You're going to die here, and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it." A great hiss from behind him alerted Harry to the basilisk. "Kill him!" Riddle yelled.

The snake lunged forward, forcing Harry to dive out of the way again. Grabbing the Sorting Hat, he jammed it on his head, praying for it to help him. 'Three, two, one…" Harry thought, before something slammed into his head, causing him to see stars. Tossing the hat off, Harry heard something metallic fall to the floor. Half blind in pain, he fumbled for it.

Finally, finding it, he grasped a cylindrical portion. As the spots cleared, he found out that it was the handle of a silver longsword, with rubies of different sizes set into the cross guard. Harry hefted the sword in front of him, holding it in both hands. The snake lunged again, and Harry sidestepped, bringing the sword down upon the scales of the basilisk. The sword bounced off the hard scales, followed by another hiss, as the snake came back for another attack. Left with nowhere else to run to, Harry thrust the sword into the roof of the snake's mouth. It shrieked in pain, even as Harry yelled at feeling something stabbing into his arm. Harry let go of the sword as the great snake fell to its side, twitching before lying still, the sword still in the roof of its mouth. Falling to his knees, he ripped out the offending object, which felt suspiciously like a fang. Even with it out, he felt a white-hot pain, before remembering that Basilisk Venom was extremely lethal.

Harry tried to walk, stumbling every couple of steps, before finally sinking to his knees next to Ginny. "And here you will die, Harry Potter, lying in the filth and grime, dirty as your Mudblood mother. Look, even the bird is crying. It knows you're going to die."

Harry's vision began to blur, as his arm went numb. He saw a flash of red and gold land next to him. "Thanks Fawkes. You did brilliantly." Harry found himself saying, his vision blurring and watering. The only sensation he became aware of was a warm, wet feeling next to the pain in his arm. It deadened the pain, making it feel far away. The room slowly came back into focus, followed by a bang, like cannon fire, as Fawkes flew away.

"Away with you!" Tom yelled, emitting several more bangs from the wand he held, "Phoenix tears. I forgot."

As Harry began to sit up, he felt something leather under his right hand. Quickly realizing what it was, he grabbed the basilisk fang and stabbed the diary with it. Ink began to pour from the puncture, like blood from a wound. Tom screamed as part of his chest began to glow with a golden light; the light quickly zigzagging over his body, as Harry stabbed the diary again and again. Tom then exploded in a shower of sparks…

Only for the sparks to reform themselves into Dementors, at least a hundred of them, surrounding him and Sirius. Both were yelling in pain at reliving their worst memories, as Harry heard Lily's screaming and Voldemort's high, cold laughter. Then, a pure white stag charged through them, the dark creatures thrown away by the waves of magical energy it exuded. Exhausted, Harry collapsed next to Sirius, his head hitting the rocks…

When he opened his eyes again, he found that he was very low to the ground. He felt long, powerful, and sentient. It took him a moment to realize that he was a snake. Judging from his estimated size and muscle mass, some type of python. He could feel the fangs against the roof of his mouth. Strange. Moving along his stomach, he slithered his way up the steps of an old, seemingly abandoned house. Finally, he slithered into a room on the third floor, moving to hang on the back of a large armchair. Looking down, he saw Wormtail on his knees, shivering and whimpering, as a cold voice sounded.

Voldemort's high, cold voice seemed to be coming from the armchair, and while he wanted something, Harry could not piece it all together. Wormtail, however, seemed only able to cower in fear, never looking at his master.

He stammered through talks of a tournament and, it apparently tied back to getting Harry. Some way through this, Harry would wake up, panting and sweating, with his scar feeling like it was on fire. Seeing the sun only just coming up over the horizon, Harry Potter groaned audibly. This would be a long summer for him…

 ** _*'*_Halfway around the world_*'*  
_**

The young man knelt over the woman's corpse, his world seeming to collapse around him as wrath and depression welled up inside him. "I will make you pay for this, old man. I will bring you to justice." The man vowed, staggering to his feet, walking back past the police tape, the Salem magical police letting him through. He set off, head down, the rain falling as the world seemed to share his pain. His feet took him to his second home without much thought. He entered his dorm, locking the door behind him, before collapsing on his bed and letting his emotions leak out at the injustice of the world in general.

 **Well, hopefully you guys like it. Yeah, it was really just to set up background information for this story, but that is information that you do need.**  
 **= Posted 06/06/2016**


	2. Chapter 1: The Dursley's

**A\N: This is an edited version that has been uploaded on June 6th, 2016.**

 **Chapter One: The Dursley's**

The summer of 1994 was truly turning out terribly for Harry Potter.

The third week back from Hogwarts came without much fanfare. The morning began simply enough; Harry woke when Uncle Vernon came stumping down the stairs, almost seeming to shake them. Harry quickly headed downstairs and into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, yawning all the while.

That is when things took a rather grim turn.

"Do you see the rubbish they are spouting in the paper here?" Vernon almost yelled, his face turning the classic red and purple, the newspaper shaking in his hands. "They should make shure ta haf all tha facks..."

Confused, Harry looked up from the eggs and bacon on the stove, back at his uncle, and noticed that something was very wrong. The right side of Vernon's face seemed to be drooping, as his right arm hung uselessly, while his left tried to move it. He tried to stand, but almost immediately fell back down into his seat, which seemed to groan at the sudden change in weight. "Whash goin' on?" Vernon said, as Petunia came into the kitchen to see him fall out of his chair and pass out. Time froze for an instant, before Petunia moved faster than Harry had ever seen her move.

She bolted for the phone, quickly dialing 999. Ten minutes later, the telltale sounds of an ambulance could be heard. Emergency services quickly entered the house, moving immediately to the kitchen, where Vernon was loaded onto a stretcher and hustled out to the ambulance.

"Mum, what's going on?" Dudley asked, roused by the sound of the ambulance.

"Your father is in a spot of medical trouble. He's had a stroke." One of the paramedics said as they left.

Moving with a speed that seemed unbelievable for his bulk, Dudley dressed. "We need to go see him."

Petunia agreed with him, and within five minutes, their car was quickly pulling out of the driveway before speeding away at an almost breakneck pace.

Harry stood frozen by the stove. Vernon had a stroke? He had always seemed rather obese, but for this to happen...seemed completely unreal.

He waited at the house for several hours. His aunt and cousin did not return until well into the night. The front door opened and Dudley immediately went up the stairs, judging from the groaning coming from them. Petunia came into the kitchen and sat down at the table, her face pale and drawn.

"He's dead."

Harry was at a loss for words. He felt a small amount of happiness on the inside, knowing that the man, who had made his life a living hell for thirteen years, was dead. However, the look of depression upon his aunt's face gave him pause enough to feel the slightest hint of sorrow. The man wasn't much, but he had been her husband. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, hoping that Petunia would hear him. Harry went over to the stove and quietly made his aunt some tea. "I know that it won't help, but at least have some." He told her, setting a cup with some in front of her, which she seemed to hold onto out of a sheer need for comfort.

As Harry turned to leave, Petunia said, "Harry, please stay, I want to tell you some things, more specifically about my behavior over the past thirteen years." The next few hours were filled with Petunia explaining their actions. She told him of how she and Lily had been close when they were younger, as Petunia was only a year and a half older than Lily; how strange things had begun to happen around Lily when she turned three. She could summon toys to herself, make them float around, or change their colors. She didn't know what was happening at the time. She then explained their meeting with a boy named 'Severus', and how Lily learned the truth of her abilities.

That name rattled around in Harry's head. He knew that name, but from where?

She told him of the letter that Lily had received from Hogwarts in the summer of 1971. Someone named Professor McGonagall had come to them and explained that Lily was able to perform magic. She even demonstrated her ability to transform into a cat and back again. Naturally, this made her mother and father still more proud of Lily. Even though they were close as sisters could be, they still had a sibling rivalry. Especially since her mother and father seemed to dote on Lily as if she could do no wrong. Angered by this new development, Petunia wrote in an attempt to get accepted to Hogwarts as well. Needless to say, this did not work in the slightest. She was told, kindly but firmly, that she possessed no magical talent and was therefore ineligible to attend.

Five years, Lily went to the magical school and, through it all, Petunia's jealousy grew. She then confronted Lily in the summer of '76. The sister's shrieking match that followed was enough to scare their parents from interfering. The sisters avoided each other for the rest of the summer. Then, Petunia met Vernon while at a university. They began dating and by the fall of '77, they were engaged. In a last attempt to reconcile with Lily, Petunia invited her and James to meet Vernon, on the pretext that they would behave themselves around him. However, shortly after the dinner began, the entire "behaving-themselves" idea went out the window as Vernon tried to brag about the expensive car that he had been able to buy and how much money he had. James got drawn into the argument, talking of the vast fortune that his family had. Vernon then insulted his manner of dress and it slowly devolved from there. After about a quarter of an hour, Lily just escorted James out, sick of the man her sister was engaged to and just overall annoyed with the evening. Petunia and Vernon got married in the spring of 1979, and in June of 1980, gave birth to Dudley.

Then Harry had been dropped on their doorstep with a note.

"Can I see this note?" Harry cut across her. Petunia looked up, as if he had shocked her by talking.

"Yes, just give me a moment."

She quickly returned, carrying a yellowing piece of parchment. Harry opened it and began reading.

 _Dear Mister and Missus Vernon Dursley,_

 _This is Harry James Potter, the son of your sister.  
_ _James and Lily were recently killed by Lord  
Voldemort_ _and he needs a place to call his home.  
This house has been given blood wards to protect  
you from him and his followers. So long as he  
remains here,_ _you will be safe. You will also be  
properly compensated_ _for his upbringing._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Dumbledore?! Dumbledore had left him in this hellhole for almost ten years, before sending anyone to check up on him and make sure he was being treated properly. And he had set up these "blood wards" and forced Harry to return here every summer. What in the nine pits of Hell...?

'But', Harry thought, "Dumbledore must have had a very good reason outside of these for doing it. Imagine if I had grown up among all that fame, I could have turned out like Malfoy.' He shuddered at the thought before turning to his aunt.

"What does he mean, 'You will also be properly compensated'?" Harry asked angrily, as he saw Petunia bow her head, almost in shame.

"Every year around the end of June, we would get a large check in the mail. At first, I was able to get it and put it into a savings account, using only some of the money to pay for your primary education, while the rest was used by myself. Then Vernon found out about them and used them to fuel the lifestyle that led to...well..." She said, unable to finish.

"Can you finish your story?" Harry gently asked her. Nodding, she resumed where she left off, telling him of how he was raised as a child. She told Harry of the year he turned five and of how Vernon had changed after finding out about the checks. Combined with Harry performing some accidental magic to get toys from Dudley, Vernon's dislike had grown into a deep-seated resentment. Ever since, he had become harsher on Harry, hitting him, and forcing him to do labor. Petunia had tried to step in a couple times, but was beaten by him when she did.

Harry closed his eyes as she mentioned it. He hadn't considered how hard it might be on her to raise him, while taking abuse from the extremities of Vernon's rage. He knew the rest of the story from there. "I'm assuming that you are telling me this because you want to make it up to me." Harry said not waiting for an answer. "I have been able to forgive quickly and move on in the past, but this is something I will need to really work at. I can't forgive everything that happened overnight."

She nodded, "I understand." She said simply, before moving to leave the kitchen. She stopped at the hallway and looked back, "I don't expect your forgiveness. I just wanted you to at least hear my story."

She then left for her bedroom, to lie in bed and mourn the man that Mr. Dursley had used to be. Harry stayed up, cleaning the cup and pot he had used before going to bed. Lying on his back, he looked up at the ceiling. Dumbledore had left him here? Why? Why hadn't he been given to Sirius or Remus? These questions, and similar ones, swirled in his brain until he drifted off to sleep.

 ***'*_ _*'***

Dudley stayed to himself for the next month. It quickly turned into one of the most peaceful months Harry had ever had at Number Four Privet Drive. He would wake up in the morning, and prepare breakfast out of pure reflex, before heading outside to do work in the yard or just be outside. He didn't have quite the green thumb that Neville did, but he understood why his friend enjoyed it so much. Aunt Petunia prepared meals for him in the evening and he was able to have his school belongings, and he could complete his homework, as opposed to rushing to finish it on the Hogwarts Express. With Hermione's help, of course.

Toward the end of that month long bliss, Aunt Petunia stopped Harry before he could head outside.

"We need to talk to Dudley."

"What about?" Harry asked defensively.

"About Vernon's death. You've seen it. He hasn't left his room much, let alone the house, in well over a month." She appeared hollow on the inside, for she hadn't eaten much either.

"I will try, but I make no promises." Harry said, his teeth slightly on edge at the thought of trying to communicate with Dudley. Petunia went up to fetch Dudley and they both came back down.

"Why's he here?" Dudley asked, seeing Harry in the room and obviously feeling very unwilling to talk in front of his cousin.

"I'm not here by choice either." Harry growled.

"He is part of the family." Petunia stated.

"No, he isn't." Dudley said, wiping his nose on the cuff of his sleeve. "He doesn't know what this is like. How it feels to lose a close family member."

"The hell I don't!" Harry yelled back, jumping to his feet, his anger rising. "I've lost my whole family! My parents were murdered right in front of me when I was one! And my godfather," Both Dursleys flinched at the mention of the man who was apparently a mass murderer, "was incarcerated by one of his oldest friends!" His tone became more of a scoff. "Yeah, I know nothing about losing family members."

Both boys were eye to eye with each other, Harry trembling with barely controlled rage. Dudley eventually backed down and, more surprisingly, said, "I'm sorry." to Harry, before collapsing into the armchair that used to be Uncle Vernon's.

In that moment, Harry took the time to look at Dudley, to really see him. He had become thinner, the fat eating itself to sustain his broad frame. He had always seemed haughty and full of himself, but now...

"You wanted his approval, didn't you?" Harry asked, suddenly understanding what the hulking boy had wanted for as long as he could remember. Dudley looked back at him, his eyes speaking for him.

"I won't try to dissuade you, but your father made terrible decisions during his life. I know you know that he beat me, but he also made other terrible decisions. Don't make those same choices. Follow his drive in his work, not his temper. His protectiveness, not his jealousy." And with that, Harry left and shut himself in his room. "Well, one can only bullshit for so long..." he sighed, deciding to take a nap, before tackling Flitwick's Charms essay.

 ***'*_ _*'***

A couple weeks later, Harry was checking the mail, when he came across a letter that stuck out like a sore thumb. It was an envelope covered almost entirely in postage stamps. Seeing as it was addressed to him, Harry opened it.

 _Hey Harry,_

 _So it's been a little over two months. How are you  
_ _holding up?_ _Those Muggles treating you any  
better? Well, the main_ _reason that I'm writing is  
because Dad was able to score tickets_ _to the  
Quidditch World Cup. It'll be Ireland versus  
Bulgaria._ _We got tickets for the whole family but  
Mum isn't interested,_ _and Perce said that he'll be  
busy at work. He works with the_ _Department for  
International Magical Cooperation or something  
now. Hermione's_ _already said she wanted to attend  
and she is here. If you wanna join us, Dad'll be  
there to pick you up on Saturday. If not, he's still  
_ _gonna pick you up._

 _Ron_

 _P.S. I hope we put enough stamps on there._

Harry grinned at the letter, before heading off to alert his aunt. The funny thing was that the Saturday that Ron mentioned was the next day.

So, at noon the next day, Harry was ready to leave. He had explained to Aunt Petunia who the Weasleys were, and she had agreed that he should spend time with his friends. The knock on the front door got his attention. Opening it, he was greeted with a handshake from the Weasley patriarch. "Having a good summer, Harry?" He asked.

"You could say that..." Harry answered evasively. Ignoring it, Mr. Weasley stepped in as Petunia stepped into the hallway.

"You must be Mr. Weasley." She said, delicately extending her hand, which Mr. Weasley proceeded to vigorously shake.

"You are aware that I'm taking Harry away for the remainder of the summer, correct?" He asked, looking around at some of the items in the house.

"Of course.", Petunia said, subtly wiping her hands off.

"Good. Then we'll be off. Lovely to meet you."

"Wait." Puzzled, Harry looked around to see Dudley standing at the stairs. "I overheard a bit of your discussion with Mum yesterday." He explained to Harry, before turning to Mr. Weasley.

"You're interested in our technology?"

"Of course!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, looking like a child in a candy store with money to spend, "I find that you all are rather ingenious, figuring out how to do things without magic."

"I can explain some of it to you.' Dudley offered, impressing Harry and exciting Mr. Weasley further.

"I would appreciate that." He eventually replied.

The next two hours were spent in the garage, where Dudley attempted to explain how a car engine worked. Mr. Weasley was very excited about it all and even Harry was surprised. When had Dudley developed such an interest in cars?

But as Mr. Weasley checked his watch, he gave a start. "Merlin's beard! Molly's going to kill me." He said, "Come on, Harry. Thank you for the explanation, er..." He said, trailing off as he realized he didn't know the boy's name.

"Dudley." Dudley said, extending his hand, which Mr. Weasley shook. Then, he turned on the spot with Harry and his luggage, and they both vanished with a somewhat quiet _crack_.

 **A/N: WHOOOOOO, new story now. It's not very good, but I hope that you all enjoy it. Please leave comments, good or bad or indifferent. I love them all. Until next time, this is YoungWriter20, signing off!**


	3. Chapter 2: The Quidditch World Cup

**A/N: And now it has been updated on 06/23/2016**

 **Chapter 2: The Quidditch World Cup**

Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a very thin rubber tube. It put pressure on him from all sides, squeezing the breath out of him. Then it stopped, as quickly as it started, and his feet hit the ground hard, causing his knees to buckle, and he almost fell over.

"Sorry about that, Harry." Mr. Weasley apologized, helping Harry to steady himself, seemingly unaffected by the change. "Apparition is one of those things that takes getting used to. Most wizards prefer brooms. Slower, but much safer." They continued up the road they landed on until they reached the Burrow. "Molly, we're back!" Mr. Weasley called as they walked in the kitchen door.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling in, catching Mr. Weasley in a tight hug and kiss, before she started fussing over Harry. "Oh, my dear boy! Come in, come in and let me take a look at you. Hmmm…you seem to be doing much better than you normally are after the summer."

"Yeah, some stuff happened with my relatives and we have come to an...understanding…" Harry smiled softly, accepting her warm touches, while dodging around the larger questions. She chided him on the length of his hair, something that made him feel loved for the first time since he had been able to speak with Sirius.

"Well, that's good." She said, having finished her examination. "Now, everyone is out by the orchard, if you want to see them, while I question my husband. Now, Arthur," Molly said sweetly, her cold glare contrasting sharply with her tone, "Why. Are. You. Late?"

Mr. Weasley gulped at the cold use of his first name. "Well you see, dear, Harry's cousin offered to show me how those Muggle automobiles worked." He tried weakly, while Harry made a break for the front door. Once he was outside, and away from the feminine shrieking, he began the small trek to the apple orchard, wary of any stray apples coming to hit him.

Coming to the clearing next to the orchard, he saw five Weasley men and Ginny in the air. Hermione was off to the side, acting as an impromptu referee their pickup game of Quidditch. Smiling mischievously, he quickly changed his voice to sound like Dumbledore, and snuck up on Hermione.

"Ah, hello there, Miss Granger." Harry said, laughing as Hermione screamed and jumped a three feet before looking around. She didn't seem to enjoy being pranked like that, if the string of jinxes and hexes he had to dodge were anything to go on. Harry quickly stopped laughing and instead started running. "Hey, help out a friend here!" He called to the guys and girl in the air.

"No way." One of the twins called.

"You should have seen it coming." The other called back.

"I'd have to agree with Hermione's reaction." He heard Ginny yell, while he heard laughter coming from the other three men.

Hermione eventually caught Harry, and as payment, he got a whole lot of stinging hexes in the back. All eight trooped back to the Burrow, to calls of "Boys! Girls! Dinner's ready!"

Hurrying back, they all settled in to Mrs. Weasley's expert cooking. Talk spread throughout the table, with Ron, Bill, Charlie and Mr. Weasley discussing how the Quidditch match would turn out the next day. Hermione tried to discuss school with Harry, but failed to engage him, so turned to Percy and tried to talk about his new job at the Ministry. After dinner and a couple of Mrs. Weasley's excellent pies, the group sat around the table in a sleepy, companionable silence. "C'mon, off to bed. We all have to be up very early tomorrow." Mrs. Weasley said, shooing everyone off to bed. Harry and Ron climbed up to Ron's room and they both got onto their beds, where they promptly fell asleep.

Harry again had the recurring nightmare about Voldemort, but this time it was different.

He wasn't the snake this time. He was sitting in the armchair, looking down at Wormtail.

"You're certain that it will be a success?" Harry said, in a high cold voice.

"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail whimpered, as Harry realized he was looking through Voldemort's eyes.

"Good, my spy will ensure that the boy is entered into the tournament, then he will make sure that he is brought to me." He seemed to relax back into the enormous chair, as a hissing sound came to him. emWe are being watched./em Without needing to turn, he spoke louder, "Wormtail, Nagini tells me that we have a visitor at the door." Wormtail was by the door in an instant, wrenching it open, showing an older man. "Avada Kedavra!" The room became bathed in the cruel green light, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground.

Waking with a start, Harry saw the door open and heard Hermione say, "Harry! Ron! You need to get up!", while trying to contain her own yawns.

Harry roused Ron from his own dreamland and the two began to change into cleaner clothes. After tiredly making their way downstairs, they were greeted by the picture of Hermione almost falling asleep into her stack of pancakes, while Ginny was dozing on her shoulder. Only the four oldest Weasleys of the house seemed to actually be awake, and Percy was nowhere to be seen.

"C'mon, you lot." Mr. Weasley said, as the twins stumbled downstairs. "We need to leave in five minutes."

"Why are we up?" One of the twins asked, a wide-mouthed yawn coming from the other, "It's still dark outside."

"This is when the portkey is scheduled for." Mr. Weasley answered. Five minutes later, everyone had grabbed their packs and said their goodbyes. Mrs. Weasley hugged them all and told them to have fun, "Within reason!" She added at the twins' retreating backs, and the group began the trek for the "portkey".

"Hermione, what's...what's a Portkey?" Harry asked, a yawn briefly interrupting him.

"It's really just a spelled item to take a person or a group of people to a specific place." Hermione answered, not yawning, but still seeming just as tired. Harry's mind worked sluggishly to process this, even as he laughed internally at the lack of a lecture.

As they entered a more wooded area, a voice rang out from ahead of them, "Morning, Arthur!", causing more than one of them to jump in surprise.

"Good morning, Amos." Mr. Weasley called back, as the two groups got closer. "This is Lord Amos Diggory," Mr. Weasley introduced the man to the group, "and you probably know his son, Cedric. He's the Hufflepuff Seeker." Cedric shook hands with them all. Fred and George seemed to not shake quite as long. They still hadn't forgotten that Cedric beat them last year when Harry fell from his broom, even though Cedric had done all he could to try to get a rematch. Harry had no such quarrel with Cedric; he was the truest definition of a Hufflepuff that Harry had ever met.

"Well, we need to keep moving. I take it you and I are headed to roughly the same place?" Mr. Weasley asked Mr. Diggory.

"The Cup, yes." The larger group then moved off to find their portkey.

Twenty minutes later, they were all gathered around a boot, hanging on for dear life, as they flew through a swirl of color and noise, before they all hit the ground hard. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Bill, Charlie, and Cedric all kept their footing, but the others collapsed, the suddenness jarring them awake. "Good. Everyone awake now?" Mr. Weasley asked jokingly, as the adults helped the others to their feet.

"Party of nine and party of two, from Stoatshead Hill, at six." A sleepy voice said, "C'mon, let's go, we're…we're expecting a party of fifteen from the Black Forest any minute now." The man insisted, yawning widely.

You alright there, Basil?" Mr. Weasley asked, throwing the boot into a bin of, what Harry could only assume, were other portkeys. He could see a couple newspapers, a few soda cans, and a punctured football, among other items.

"Been here for the last twenty-four hours." The man said, consulting another floating clipboard, "Weasley…Weasley…Here we are. Far campsite on the left, ask for Mr. Roberts. Now, Diggory…Campsite on the right, ask for Mr. Payne."

"C'mon, we need to get going." The two groups proceeded up the hill only to be met by a veritable city of tents. Tents of all different sizes, shapes, and colors adorned the massive field, with an enormous stadium on a nearby hill, overlooking the tents. "See you later, Amos." Mr. Weasley waved to the retreating form of his colleague, "We're over in the far right campsite. Let's go."

They quickly went into the chaos of the campsites. Sights and sounds assaulted them from all angles. Vendors stood by their stalls, food stalls creating enticing smells. Ron was looking at the food stalls longingly, while the others tried to see everything there was to see. The group quickly found their campsite, already with a tent in place.

It wasn't that big to begin with, only about 8 feet by 5 feet, however, once Harry got inside the tent, he smiled. Magic could still work wonders on such mundane objects. The canopy of the tent rose twenty feet into the air and there were two separate sleeping areas, a kitchen, and a communal living space in the middle of it all. "I love magic." Harry said to himself, dropping his pack near his own sleeping bag on the guys side.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione." Mr. Weasley called, "I need some firewood to start up the stove here. Could you get some, as well as some water?"

"Where can we find the water?" Harry asked, standing up, walking over to the kitchen, where, he found Mr. Weasley with a map of the campgrounds.

"We're here." Mr. Weasley indicated the map, pointing to a corner far away from the stadium, "And here is the well." He said, sliding his finger along to the adjacent campsite, stopping at the end of it.

"Of course, Mr. Weasley." Hermione said, having almost memorized the map. The three got out and began looking for firewood. A few hours and several friend sightings later, the trio eventually found their way back into the Weasley tent.

"Harry, Fred, George and Bill were sitting watching the intense match in front of them. To pass the time they had decided to play some games and Ron had challenged Charlie to a chess match. Harry had thought that Charlie would be soundly defeated, but was amazed when Charlie seemed to keep pace with Ron and even seemed to be winning in a few instances. Ron had Charlie's king backed up into a corner and Charlie was still able to make some excellent counterattacks of his own, letting his king finally move. As Ron was poised to win, Mr. Weasley's yell startled them all, causing Charlie to almost flip the board.

"Ludo!"

Sure enough, a man seemed to be making his way over from the crowd of people, his arms held wide in greeting. Harry remembered hearing about Ludo Bagman before, from Percy. The night before, Percy and Mr. Weasley had been talking about preparations and Percy had said some disparaging remarks about Bagman, that Harry was shocked to be hearing from the former Head Boy. Mr. Weasley seemed to be easier on him, maybe because Ludo had been the one to get Arthur tickets for the game.

"Arthur!" Bagman called back, in greeting. "Just a splendid night. It'll be clear. People aren't using excessive amounts of magic..." He said as a twenty foot flare erupted further down the line of tents, forcing nearby Ministry personnel to investigate. Bagman, however, just kept going like it was nothing. "You decided not to bring the missus with you?" He continued.

"You know her, Ludo. She doesn't like the game, grew to like it even less when Charlie started playing."

"Ah, well. So, who did you bring with you then?"/

"Myself, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." Mr. Weasley said, pointing to each in turn

Ludo's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the mention of Harry's name. "A pleasure to meet you all." He said with a half bow. "Now, anyone care to put a...Barty!"

Looking in the direction that Bagman was looking, Harry saw another wizard. Harry couldn't think of someone who appeared to be the complete opposite of Bagman's child-like energy and enthusiasm. He was dressed for working behind a desk and walked right on by, not taking notice of Bagman and the Weasleys, with...Percy. So, this was Percy's boss. Both of them walked past, without so much as a glance in their direction.

Bagman shrugged. "Guess he isn't into this like the rest of us are. Oh well." His eyes lit up again, "As I was saying, would anyone care to put up a bet for the game?"

The twins instantly perked up at the word "bet". Harry saw this and shook his head. No one ever bet against the twins. It was an unspoken rule at Hogwarts. They almost always had luck on their side, as Harry had learned one time...

Looking back, he heard one of them say, "We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts, that Ireland wins, but Krum will catch the Snitch." Bagman's smile grew larger at the amount and Harry could tell that even Hermione knew just what kind of miracle the twin were banking on to see this bet come through. Ireland's chasers would have to be in top form today and Krum would have to catch when his team was down by at least one hundred-sixty points, or Fred and George were losing all of their money.

"Not a chance, boys. I'll give you four hundred to one odds on that one." Bagman said, writing down the twins' names, their bet, and their condition in a small black book. Then he left, stopping at a few other tents along the way.

Several hours later, there was a loud gong, followed by a deep voice, resonating over the various campsites, "The 422nd Quidditch World Cup will be starting in two hours. Please find your seats." The Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry moved towards the stadium with the crowd, doing their best to stay together. Ron grumbled about them having to go to their seats now and wait for two hours.

However, as soon as they got to their seats, the pregame show began. Ireland's team flew into the stadium to tumultuous applause from their fans. From the green and white smoke, gold coins flew around, before arranging into a giant leprechaun, which then began to dance a quick jig around the stadium, before it vanished in a flash. Then the Bulgarian team entered the field. One of the players flew out in front of the others, appearing to show off.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked, as Harry focused his omnioculars on him, the name 'Krum, Victor' popping up. 'So these could identify players? Useful.' Looking downwards, Harry saw a gorgeous woman stepping onto the field, walking with a grace that he had not known existed.

Dropping his omnioculars, so they hung around his neck, he saw that she was not alone. About a hundred women stood in a circle, in the middle of the field, their blonde hair moving down in flowing waves around them.

"As soon as he saw them, Mr. Weasley turned to the kids, "Veela. Fingers in your ears, boys." He said as the women opened their mouths, seeming to prepare to sing.

Hermione's face went a little white, before her fingers almost dug to her brain. Harry wasn't quite as fast, and heard the smallest of the Veela's song. It was so sweet, and called to him. They wanted him to join them. Then his fingers were in his ears and he was able to block out the rest of it.

Unfortunately, Ron had been unable to cover his ears quick enough, and a small, blank smile came over his face, followed by him standing and trying to get to the beautiful creatures. Ginny quickly caught him and Charlie sat in his lap to hold him down. Then, after another five minutes of speeches, the match began.

Harry had his share of physical Quidditch games, but this was a game that he wanted no part in. Numerous fouls were called throughout the game, the Irish Seeker was fooled twice, and both times, ended with him flying straight into the hard ground. The mascots actually almost got into a fight. In short, it became as intense as the football games that he had seen his uncle watching from time to time. By the end of the two hour match, Krum had caught the Snitch for Bulgaria, but the point difference was so much that, even with the Snitch catch, Bulgaria lost.

The twins left to collect the winnings that they had earned from making their almost impossible, but correct, bet. The rest of them, except Ron, who seemed to want to build up Krum to being a legend, making Harry question Ron's sexual orientation, celebrated Ireland's victory late into the night. The twins came back later in the evening, seeming to be annoyed very briefly before joining the celebrations. Loud booms began sounding outside and Mr. Weasley went to investigate. Everyone inside remained unfazed, until the white face of Mr. Weasley re-entered the tent. "Get your things. Get into the woods."

"Dad, what's going on?" Ron asked, looking up from where the twins were draping him with Irish flags.

"Death Eaters." Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie went from joking to serious in an instant. Each of them quickly grabbed their essentials. "Charlie, take Ginny. Bill, take Hermione. Fred, Harry. George, Ron." Mr. Weasley ordered, the older ones all pairing off as directed. Each exited the tent, taking off for the woods, while trying to stay together. Fred and Harry sprinted as fast as they could go, lights of all colors flying around them as fires burned and people screamed. As soon as all the groups got to the woods, two loud cracks sounded out, as the eight people there vanished.

 **A/N: Hopefully the next update will be in a few weeks...**


	4. Chapter 3: Unexpected Revelations

**A/N: And now it has been updated on 07/23/2016**

 **Chapter Three: A Series of Unexpected Revelations**

Two loud cracks later, and all eight appeared at the front of the Burrow, only to be greeted with a crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, dears." She half-sobbed. "Are you all okay? You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

"We're fine, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said, trying to placate her into releasing them. "Honest. Just a couple scratches from running in the woods."

"Alright, dears. Inside you go then. Bill, everything is where it normally is." Mrs. Weasley said, releasing them all and guiding them inside, before attempting to return to the garden.

"Mr. Weasley is fine, Mrs. Weasley. He got us out of there and I'm sure that he is doing alright himself." Harry said, once he noticed a slight tremble in her fingers.

"Thank you for that comforting news, Harry." She smiled gently, slowly moving back to the kitchen. She was in such a daze, that she began washing the dishes by hand. Harry caught a glimpse of the Weasley family clock as he was walking into the dining room. All of the hands pointed to "Home", except for Mr. Weasley's and Percy's hands, which were pointed towards, "Work". Molly seemed to relax as she noticed it.

Everyone sat down in the dining room, feeling tired from the long night of partying and the surprise attack. Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George looked apprehensive.

"Thank goodness you all are okay." Molly said, as she joined them. "I had half a mind to go and find all of you myself." The mood lightened at the terrified looks on the faces of the group. An angry Mrs. Weasley was something that they would rather never have to ever face. They all stayed up until the sun began peeking around the corner

Around noon, they heard the front door open again. Molly leapt to her feet and ran to see who was there. A piercing scream and a few minutes later, a tired, but happy Mr. Weasley was guided in by a sobbing Mrs. Weasley, with a stony-faced Percy. Mr. Weasley sat down to join in talking to the rest of the group, while Percy left as quickly as he got there, despite protests from his mother.

"What are 'Death Eaters'?" Harry said, as the Daily Prophet owl came and delivered the newspaper. A photo of a skull with a snake for a tongue was plastered across the front, the snake moving through and around the skull. Hermione went white, and Ron and Ginny backed up, while Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie scowled.

"Followers of You-Know-Who." Fred and George said quietly at the same time. Their ever-present smiles were gone, worry etched in every line of their faces as Harry finally understood what had happened at the World Cup. "And that's their mark." Harry looked back at the photo with a newfound understanding.

"Then why didn't we stay and fight?"

"Because we would only have gotten hurt...or worse." Bill said, trying to eat some of the cold food. "They committed horrible atrocities during the Great Wizarding War. Whole families were slaughtered, muggles were hunted for sport, people were tortured into insanity...And this was the mark that they left behind to identify that they were the ones responsible." He finished, before leaving the room and climbing the stairs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped after him. While Ron had heard they had committed atrocities, it was the first they had heard of any of these acts. Professor Binns seemed rather stuck on the Goblin Rebellions, so it was difficult if not impossible to move forward to newer material. 'A new History of Magic professor would be good...' Harry thought.

Two hours later, six more owls came swooping in, putting the conversation on hold as they sat in front of the only six kids still attending Hogwarts. At their appearance, Mrs. Weasley seemed to brighten up a little.

"We need to do the school shopping." She declared, and everyone agreed, wanting something to distract them from what had happened the night before.

Half an hour later, the group of ten was ready to leave. One by one, they used Floo powder to get to the Leaky Cauldron. From there, they split up, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went with Ginny, Bill went off towards Gringotts with Harry, who needed to pick up some gold to go shopping, Ron and Charlie went with the twins to Zonko's Joke Shop, and Hermione went off to Flourish & Blott's.

 ***'*_ _*'***

Bill strode into Gringotts with Harry trailing at his heels, and went right up to the closest open teller. "May your gold be plentiful and your enemies be strong, Teller Griphook." He greeted, presenting with a bow.

Griphook peered over his spectacles at the wizard. "Same to you, Curse Breaker Weasley. How can Gringotts be of service to yourself today?"

"Actually, I'm about to head to my office. I'm just trying to show Mr. Potter how to respectfully greet Goblins." He gave Harry a quick pat on the shoulder, before looking back at Griphook and bowing his head slightly, "May you die in honor and glory, your riches innumerable."

"And you."

Bill walked off and Harry repeated the formal greeting, "I just need to take some gold out of my vault, Teller Griphook."

"Right this way, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Griphook sped through the subterranean labyrinth, before stopping in front of his vault. Harry pulled a hundred galleons out of his vault and the cart took off again, winding and twisting along the dark rollercoaster. Before long, they stopped back at the main hall of the bank.

"Mr. Potter, would you happen to have a free hour or so?" Griphook asked, as they got back to his desk.

"I do, Teller Griphook. May I ask what for?"

"The Potter account manager wishes to speak with you. I will bring you to him." Harry was guided around the inner parts of the bank before Griphook knocked and opened one of the doors.

"Mr. Potter, this is the Potter account manager, Bloodrag." The goblin was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression.

Harry looked back for a moment before his brain kicked back in, "May your gold be plentiful, and your enemies strong, account manager Bloodrag." A small smile told him that he had done right. Seeing that Griphook was leaving, he turned back, "May you die with honor and glory, your riches innumerable." He said, as Griphook bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

"Now, Mr. Potter, we have much to discuss." The goblin said, pulling out a manila folder and dropping it on the desk with a loud _thump_. Harry gulped, seeing that the folder was as thick as his arm.

"Firstly, as you are now fourteen, you should have begun your heirship three years ago. Would you like to claim it now?"

Harry blinked, "Heirship?" He asked, confused.

"Yes, Mr. Potter." The goblin replied impatiently. "The Potters are considered an ancient and noble family, even among wizards. They stretch back to a time long before the witch hunts, and are credited with creating many early healing potions used in many modern magical societies. Your family was one of the largest families in magical Britain, before the founding of your wizarding government. The first families wished to maintain the titles given to them. Other families, like yours, were given the titles as a sign of respect."

"What?"

The goblin squinted at Harry, "Mr. Potter, are you aware of how much you have in your accounts?"

"No, and I only have the one account." Harry stated.

"Mr. Potter, it appears that you have been woefully misinformed of just how much wealth you hold. That vault is only a trust vault. The combined values of your vaults is close to two million galleons."

Harry could only sit there, staring dumbly at the wall. "So, I'm rich?" He said, looking back at the goblin who smirked.

"Yes it would appear that you are quite well off, financially.". The goblin replied, "However, there is also the matter of your parents' will."

"They left behind a will?"

"Yes, you will be able to see it at a later date, if you take up your heirship right now. If not then-"

"I'll do it." Harry said, without a second thought.

"Alright, we just need to do a couple things first, before you can take up your heirship." Bloodrag said, grabbing a couple pieces of paper and standing up. "Please come this way."

Harry was lead down to another part of the building. It was a large room with a basin and a raised dais. "Drink this." Bloodrag held the potion up to him.

"What is this?"

"It's a Flushing Conconction."

Harry looked suspiciously at the potion, "What's it supposed to do?"

"It will flush any active potions from your body. It's standard procedure, just to make sure that all of the decisions are your own."

Harry drank the blackish-gray potion, and it actually didn't taste bad. He didn't feel anything for a second, then he felt his stomach give a quiver. Raising a hand to his mouth, Harry could see the goblin smiling, seeming to have been expecting this. He couldn't hold it back and emptied his stomach into the nearby trash. When he looked over it, he noticed that there seemed to be a splatter of yellow across it.

"Loyalty potion." Bloodrag said, in answer to the unasked question from Harry. "Someone seems to want to keep you in their pocket. Do you feel any different?"

"Yeah, but I can't put my finger on it."

"The 'who' will become clear to you, given time. Now," Bloodrag continued, bringing Harry into another room. "This is the Ritual Room. Here we do a number of different rituals, like inheritance tests."

He picked up a beautiful, ceremonial (Harry hoped) dagger. "Just cut your hand a little bit and let the blood collect in this basin." Taking the dagger, Harry pulled the blade against his skin, opening up a gash from one side of his hand to the other. He held his hand over the basin, letting the blood collect in the basin. After the basin had enough blood, the gash healed, as if never there to begin with. Bloodrag took a ceremonial quill and dipped the tip in the blood, before writing "Harry James Potter" at the top. The quill then took off, writing at a dizzyingly fast pace, pausing every now and again to dip back into the small amount of blood, only to keep writing a moment later.

After a minute, the quill stopped. "What does it say?" Harry asked anxiously. Bloodrag seemed intently focused on the parchment. He finally handed it to Harry.

 _Harry James Potter_

 _Born on July 31_ _st_ _, 1980  
Human_

 _Half-blood_ _  
_ _Male  
14_

 _Parents: James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Potter, née Evans_

 _Current Muggle Guardian(s): Mrs. Petunia Erin Dursley_

 _Current Magical Guardian(s): Professor Albus Percival Wulfic Brian Dumbledore_

 _Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter_ _  
_ _Chronologic Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black_

 _Magical Core: Extremely Large_ _  
_ _(1/3rd sealed with a Magic Siphon)  
(1/3rd sealed with an Alignment Lock)_

 _Magical Abilities:_ _  
_ _Animagus (Sealed with a Magic Lock)  
Parseltongue (Hereditary)  
Wandless Caster_

 _Afflictions:_

 _Nearsighted_ _  
_ _Horcrux_

"I'm am Animagus?" Harry gaped at the paper, unable to believe all that he was reading.

"You have the magical potential to become one." Bloodrag corrected him. "Any other questions?"

"Can the Magic Lock be removed?" He peered closer, noticing that the term "Magic Lock" appeared twice, and seemed different than the idea of a "Magic Siphon".

"Yes," The goblin answered, looking at the sheet again. "The one on you appears to be used to stabilize magical cores that have grown out of sync with the body. They are generally for large magical cores, or cores with more potent magic. However, it should have been removed when you were eleven."

"Okay, and why is my ability as a Parseltongue hereditary?"

"It is possible that somewhere far, far back in your family tree you had an ancestor who was a Parselmouth."

"Alright, last question. What does it mean, 'Horcrux'?"

"WHAT?" Bloodrag snatched the paper away from him, furiously reading it, before looking at Harry confused. Harry's scar twinged at that moment and he lifted his hand to it. Bloodrag's eyes widened. "Natürestá...daso explärt deln Sífon..." He said in Gobbledegook, before moving as fast he could to a ledger next to the door. He wrote furiously in it before turning back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, please lie down on the dais."

"Why? What's a Horcrux?" Harry asked once again, looking more confused than ever.

"There's no time right now. I will explain afterwards. Please lie down, Mr. Potter."

Several heavily armed Goblins entered the room, followed by five more, these ones dressed in pitch black robes with intricate grey patterns woven into them. A small bird was also brought in; the cage placed next to Harry's head. He lay on the dais waiting for something to happen when a low drone started from the five robed goblins.

" _Fragmentiado seema, wiros werchar siú ausera. Verlasir diesa asteped direko deln schierda jetzra._ " was all he heard before pain exploded in his forehead, directly over his scar.

He screamed at it. They were removing something that felt somewhat important and didn't want to leave. This continued for what felt like hours, before it ended and he sat bolt upright, to hear the sound of metal piercing flesh. Deciding not to look, he turned to Bloodrag. "What was that?"

"Mr. Potter, I promised you an explanation. A Horcrux is a most foul type of magic. A wizard looking to do it needs to split their soul, by murdering a young child in cold blood. Then they take that part of their soul and seal it in an object of their choosing. Then, so long as the soul fragment is not removed from the object, or the object is destroyed beyond magical repair, that wizard will live indefinitely."

"So, they're immortal?"

"No, immortality is that your body, no matter your age, will be able to support itself and will show you in your prime, anchoring your soul to your body. Indefinite life however, is the immortality of the soul, not body and soul."

Harry remained expressionless, as things began to click. The diary, Ginny's possession, the memory Tom Riddle...it now all beginning to make sense, a little… "Thank you, account manager Bloodrag."

"Of course. I must also warn you. The magical siphon is now gone, but not the magic locks. You need to be careful, as you now have very quickly doubled the magical strength you normally have, but not your magical reserves. Now that those are out of the way, do you, Harry James Potter, wish to take the mantle as an Heir of House Potter?"

"Yes." He nodded, a restlessness and a well of energy building inside him.

"Then I will need your signature here." Bloodrag said, sliding a form across to Harry. Looking over the form, he made sure that there was nothing malicious or entrapping inside. Finding none, he placed his signature on the indicated line. As he signed, he felt a slight itching in his hand.

"With that signed, let it be known that the Future Head of House Potter has be acknowledged." Bloodrag said. There was a bright red flash around Harry's right middle finger as a ring appeared on it. "Herziendo, Heir Potter. Siú ehronor unes mion isu gegencia."

"Excuse me?" Harry said quietly.

"It is a greeting to wizards that we at least respect."

"Oh, well, thank you, account manager Bloodrag."

"Very well. This will be field with the Ministry inside of five business days. Do you have any other questions?"

"What did it mean, 'Chronologic Heir to House Black'?" Harry asked, wondering how that fit into everything that was happening.

"Barring any other circumstances, if the current Lord of House Black dies without a biological heir, you will become Lord Black."

"Who is the current Lord Black?"

"Lord Sirius Orion Black."

Harry smiled, struck by a sudden idea. "Wait, aren't Lords stripped of their titles when they are imprisoned at Azkaban?" Bloodrag smiled, something that sent a shiver down Harry's back.

"You are quite correct, Heir Potter. It is quite strange that he was not."

Harry smile grew wider. Here was something he could use.

They both went back to Bloodrag's office. "Is there anything more I can help you with today?" The goblin asked, sitting down behind his desk and regarding the young man over his steepled fingers.

"Yes, there are yearly amounts being moved out of my vaults, to Ms. Petunia Dursley. I wish to cancel these transactions until further notice."

Bloodrag nodded, writing down a quick memo for himself, "Will that be all?"

"I also want to know how to hide the rings when I don't want to show them." Harry said, uncomfortable at the idea of showing off such fine jewelry to the whole world.

"Simply focus your magic into them and they will become invisible." Bloodrag replied, almost sounding bored by all of the questions.

"And when can I have the magic lock removed?"

"When you have more than a few hours to spare. Your holiday break should be a good time for it."

"That will be all, Account Manager Bloodrag. May you die in honor and glory, your riches immeasurable."

Bloodrag smiled, "(And good day to you), Lord Potter-Peverell." Harry happily left the bank that day and went to find his friends and buy the rest of his school supplies. However, he did have a large problem to consider. He didn't know the first thing about being a Lord. Maybe Mr. Weasley could help him out later.

 **A\N: I love how some authors use galleons as a source of money and do not give a measurement that we understand. So, here is how it breaks down for me… 1 Galleon is 17 Sickles, is 493 Knuts. I used one online converter that put the value of a Galleon at 5 GBp or 10.07 USD, the value of a Sickle at 0.29 GBP or 0.59 USD, and the value of a Knut at 0.01 GBp or 0.02 USD. Just so we could clear that up, OK? So, 2,000,000 galleons would be about 10,000,000 GBP or 20,140,000 USD. Does this make sense to everyone?**


	5. Chapter 4: Return To Hogwarts

**A/N: And now it has been updated on 07/23/2016**

 **Chapter Four: Return to Hogwarts**

"Mr. Weasley, can I ask for some advice?" Harry drew Mr. Weasley aside, once they returned to the Burrow.

"Of course, Harry." Mr. Weasley gave him a cheery smile, clapping his hand down on Harry's shoulder.

"In private, if you don't mind."

Mr. Weasley lead Harry up to his study, closing and locking the door, the act erecting a number of privacy wards. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I just got some worrying news today." Concentrating his magic, he felt the rings become visible again, before showing them to Mr. Weasley, who whistled low.

"You are concerned because you are the Heir of one house, and the possible future Head of two?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Somewhat. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. And I thought you might be able to help me."

Mr. Weasley smiled. "I take it that you don't want me to tell anyone else." Harry smiled back, his shoulders losing a bit of their tension.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Harry." Standing up, Mr. Weasley went to a nearby bookshelf, grabbed four books and gave them to Harry. "I would suggest reading those." Harry moved through the pile seeing 'Wizarding Etiquette for New Lords', 'Understanding Wizarding Law and Making it Work for You', 'Runes of Lords', and 'Traditions of the Now and Bygone'.

"My father gave these to me to help me to help me figure out what I needed to do I order to be a 'proper' Lord."

"I thought that Lords lived in finery and all that posh nonsense."

"Well," Mr. Weasley admitted sheepishly, "we used to live in 'all that posh nonsense'. Then my grandfather gambled almost all of the family savings away."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Thank you for your help, Mr. Weasley."

"It's no problem, Heir Potter."

"Good night, Lord Weasley."

"You can call me Arthur, you know."

"Just as you can call me Harry." He replied, hearing Mr. Weasley laughing a little as he made his way up to Ron's room.

*'*_ _*'*

The next week found Harry reading his school books, or finishing the last of his summer work, before the school year started up again. Hermione encouraged this, while Ron seemed to be put out by it, wanting to play Quidditch with Harry instead.

"If you don't practice, there's no guarantee that you'll make the team. C'mon, mate, just a few rounds." He tried pleading, to no avail.

September 1st was approaching faster than any of them had anticipated. But everyone was thankful that they had finished their school shopping early.

August 31st dawned with a clear sky and very comfortable temperatures. Waking a little after Ron, Harry trudged downstairs. After a quick breakfast, they all gathered their school supplies and pets, before taking the Floo Network to the Leaky Cauldron. Dressed in non-magical clothes as opposed to their normal cloaks, they had planned to make the 40 minute walk across London. Mr. Weasley shrunk all their luggage, putting it in a pack that he was carrying. The walk over took about an hour, making the family thankful that they had begun at 10:30, as opposed to 11 o'clock. Taking off the pack, everyone took their trunks and pets, boarding the train posthaste.

Quickly finding an empty compartment, the Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down to consider the coming year. The adults had kept mentioning something big happening at Hogwarts this year, but they wouldn't say anymore than that.

The trio had a very uneventful train ride, only broken by Neville joining them and Malfoy attempting to harass them. He could only try because as soon as he came to a stop in front of their compartment, Hermione had put a locking ward on the door.

They all got a good laugh of him first trying to open the door regularly, then trying to magically open it. He eventually left in a huff, Crabbe and Goyle following along behind him.

"You'd think he would learn at some point." Hermione smirked, having foiled Malfoy's almost desperate attempts to bother the group.

"Not everyone is as intellectually gifted as you, Hermione." Neville clapped his hands over his mouth while Hermione just smiled at him. Ron, however, seemed to get a rather dark expression for half a second. It was there and gone so fast Harry was almost sure that it hadn't been there to begin with.

Several hours later, the conductor's voice rang out in their compartment, letting them know of their impending arrival. Thirty minutes after that, they all heard and felt the train slowing to a stop, followed by the conductor's voice again, telling them to leave their trunks and pets, that they would be up in their dorms when they got there.

Leaving the train, Harry heard Hagrid's yell of "Firs' years! Firs' years, over 'ere!" and waved toward the half-giant as they passed him. The carriages pulled them up to the school and they were able to find good seats at their house table.

After another twenty minutes, Professor McGonagall came into the hall making her way to Dumbledore, who gave her a scroll that Harry could only imagine had all the names of the first years. Returning to the back of the hall, she guided the newest batch of first years in, ready to be sorted.

About ten of them shrieked when the Sorting Hat opened a tear on the front and began singing:

 _"A thousand years or more ago,_

 _When I was newly sewn,_

 _There lived four wizards of renown,_

 _Whose names are still well known:_

 _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

 _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

 _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

 _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

 _They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

 _They hatched a daring plan_

 _To educate young sorcerers_

 _Thus Hogwarts School began._

 _Now each of these four founders,_

 _Formed their own house, for each_

 _Did value different virtues_

 _In the ones they teach._

 _By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

 _Prized far beyond the rest;_

 _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

 _Would always be the best;_

 _For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_

 _Most worthy of admission;_

 _And power-hungry Slytherin_

 _Loved those of great ambition._

 _While still alive they did divide_

 _Their favorites from the throng,_

 _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

 _When they were dead and gone?_

 _'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

 _He whipped me off his head_

 _The founders put some brains in me_

 _So I could choose instead!_

 _Now slip me snug about your ears,_

 _I've never yet been wrong,_

 _I'll have a look inside your mind_

 _And tell you where you belong!"_

The hall broke out into applause at the conclusion of the song. The sorting lasted another forty minutes, concluding with one final cry of "Hufflepuff!" for "Roberts, Meikala". Gryffindor came away with eight new students, Slytherin got nine, Hufflepuff got eight, and Ravenclaw got seven.

Dumbledore stood up at the front of the hall, "Another year, where we welcome back everyone who has been here before, and we graciously invite those who are new to join us all in learning. Tuck in." And with that, the feast began. An hour later, Harry felt stuffed to the point of tiredness, when Dumbledore took to his podium again.

"Before you are all sent off to the warm comfort of your beds, I have a few announcements to make." Harry turned to look at the Headmaster, when it hit him. He had been feeling rather indifferent to Dumbledore, as opposed to seeing him as the man he needed to turn to for help. Dumbledore might have been the one that had been feeding him the loyalty potions. Harry shook himself out of his reverie as Dumbledore began.

"Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all that there are still four hundred and thirty-seven items that are banned from use inside the school. The same list of can be viewed on his office door at any time. The forest we have on the edge of of our lawn is still very much forbidden, meaning no student," he said looking at the Gryffindors, "should go in there. The Interschool Quidditch Competition is also disbanded for this year." This opened the floodgates of complaints. All four captains leapt to their feet, yelling about sacrilege. Some players joined in, along with more than half of the rest of the students. It was several minutes before Dumbledore was able to quiet them enough to continue.

"Now for my biggest announcement. This year, Hogwarts will be the host school for the Quadriwizard Tournament!" Excited conversations broke out throughout the hall, and even Fred stood up, yelling, "You're joking!"

"I would not joke about a matter such as this, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore said, with a hint of a chuckle. "Now, there will be three other schools that will be staying here for the duration of the tournament. There is the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, from France, the Durmstrang Institute, from Scandinavia, and the Salem Institute for the Magically Gifted, from the United States. They will be arriving at the end October and staying with us throughout the year. Therefore, I expect us all to show our guests the very best that Hogwarts has to offer. More information about the tournament will be made known to you when they have arrived. Now, off to bed. Chop chop!"

A couple hours later, Dumbledore stood by the giant doors that led to the grounds, which opened at 11:30 exactly, letting in a man, who walked with the slightest limp. "Welcome, my old friend." Dumbledore said, "Come. There is much I must discuss with you."

 ***'*_ _*'***

The next morning came rather quickly. Harry and Ron met with Hermione down at breakfast, where she was looking over her class schedule.

"It looks like we have Runes at the same time we did last year, Harry." Hermione said, handing Harry and Ron their own schedules.

"Why can't either of you join me in Divination?" Ron complained, sounding like a petulant child.

"Because I like the challenge and Harry can agree that the whole class is just a washout."

"But it's an easy O..." Ron tried, only for Harry and Hermione to shake their heads at him.

"Either way, we have Transfiguration first." Harry said, "Then after lunch, we have DADA." They went off to Transfiguration, where they began to go over the basic principles of animate to inanimate transfiguration. Afterwards, Harry and Hermione headed to the library to find some materials for their assignments.

Having stopped to skim a book that he had found, he suddenly felt someone tap his shoulder.

Looking around he came face to face with what happened to look like an angel.

Straight platinum-blonde hair framed a cute, slightly pointed face, complete with electric blue eyes that seemed both alive and dead at the same time. He wasn't sure how she was able to pull it off, but she was able to and it made her look gorgeous. But it was those features that also gave away her identity. "Greengrass?" He said politely, looking at her.

"You're in the way, Potter. Just standing there reading the book. Go find a table." And there was the iciness that had earned her the nickname, "Ice Queen." Hermione sometimes referred to her as "The Snow Queen", whoever that was. Something about Hans Christen Andersen. He had asked a few times, but she had simply told him to go find the book.

Harry and Daphne had been at odds since their second year, when Professor Fake-hart had started up that Dueling club. Both he and Daphne had been among the top students in the club. She was incredibly skilled at it, having been champion for the two years it had been running, with Harry always at a close second. Not to mention the times she seemed to enjoy beating him during regular meetings.

It didn't help that Ron kept talking about how no one in Slytherin was good in any way, which Hermione tried to argue against his claims until he used it as a way to belittle her even further. Harry frowned as he made his way back to the study table. Ron was the first friend he had ever made at Hogwarts. But for all that he said about the Slytherins being biased and bigoted, he seemed to carry many of his own biases. He didn't know what he was going to do about that situation. It was all too much for him sometimes.

 ***'*_ _*'***

The beginning of classes went easily, and the trio were very eager to learn the identity of their newest DADA teacher. On the way into the class, Harry noticed a couple of Slytherins muttering to themselves, and taking bets on how long this professor would last.

As everyone took their seats, they were surprised to see a heavily scarred and disheveled man, who looked like he lost a fight with a hippogriff, come limping out of the professor's office.

"I am Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror. And now, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He told the class, who were completely silent. Harry was scared but also a little excited. Here was probably another good teacher. "I know that some teachers may think I'm mad, but I like to be ready for anything. You need to practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He ended with a yell, a few students jumping in their seats. "As such, I'm going to show you what the three Unforgivable Curses look like." Every student with magical parents, and Hermione, went white as a sheet.

"Sir, isn't there a reason why they are Unforgivable?" She nervously raised her hand, asking her question in a shaky voice.

"Yes, the use of one of any of a these is a sentence in Azkaban. No pardons, no getting off. Any other stupid questions?" He asked, his magical eye whizzing in its socket. "Good." He said when no one raised their hand. "Now, who can give me one of them? Longbottom! What is one of the Unforgivables?"

Neville mumbled a reply. Moody looked grave. "Yes. The Cruciatus Curse." Going back to his desk he pulled out a small tarantula, which he then expanded to the size of his hand. Ron almost fled the classroom altogether. "Crucio!" Moody yelled. The spider immediately folded up, it's legs wriggling in pain, or so Harry thought. Neville's face was white and quickly turning green. Moody then stopped. "The torture curse. Designed to hurt you once and have a lasting effect. This is a rather favored spell by the Death Eaters." Neville kept staring at the spider, breathing heavily until Moody directed him back to his seat.

"Another one...Weasley!"

"Uh, t-the Imperius Curse." Ron whimpered, eyes still fixated on the spider.

"Yes, complete and total mental domination." Moody said, deathly quiet, but in the silence of the classroom, everyone heard him. Directing his wand to the tarantula again, Moody said, "Imperio!" The spider instantly straightened up, before doing a weird tap dance, before doing cartwheels around the desk. The ridiculous antics continued for five minutes and everyone was laughing by the end, except Ron.

"You think that's funny, do you?" Moody asked, as the class shut up instantly. "Many witches and wizards claimed that they only did bad things because they were under the influence of the Imperius Curse. And, the final curse?"

The whole class was silent until Daphne spoke up. "The Killing Curse."

"Yes...Avada Kedavra!" Moody yelled, jabbing his wand at the spider. A flash of green light left his wand and the spider keeled over, dead. "Instant death if it hits you, no counter, no blocking.

Only one person is known to have survived that curse. And he's sitting right in front of me." Moody said, standing over Harry's desk.

"Now, of all of them, the Imperius is the easiest to fight, but that does not mean that it is easy to fight. So, you're about to get some time under, for educational purposes."

One by one, he called everyone forward to try to fight off the curse. One by one, Harry watched many people fail. Neville did gymnastics that looked like they would be painful if he was in his normal mind. Draco tried to slither on the floor. Lavendar acted like a squirrel. Finally, Harry came face to face with Moody.

"Imperio!"

Harry instantly felt very relaxed, almost like he was floating on a cloud.

"Stand on your head." A voice said, reverberating inside his head, and Harry felt himself agreeing. He would do that if he could stay like this. Getting ready to attempt it, a niggling voice started to talk, ' _It's kinda stupid to do that, don't you think?_ '

"Stand on your head."

' _No, I don't think so._ '

"Stand. On. Your. Head."

' _Get. Out. Of. My! Head!_ '

Harry stumbled as the cloudlike sensation left him and he returned to the Defense class.

"Excellent, Potter! You fought it off. Good work. Next!"

Harry made his way back to his seat, stunned that he had been able to resist. Out of the entire class, only Harry, Hermione, and Daphne were able to actually fight off the full effects of the spell.


	6. Chapter 5: Arrival of the Competition

**A/N: And now it has been updated on 07/23/2016**

 **Chapter Five: Arrival of the Competition**

The last two weeks of September passed without incident and the excitement of meeting the other schools grew throughout October until the morning of October 30th.

"Attention, students," Albus Dumbledore announced during breakfast, "In preparation for the arrival of the other schools, all classes today are cancelled." A loud cheer from the school, "However, I expect you to be dressed in your school robes and in front of the school at five o'clock, to welcome the other schools to our home. That is all."

Many students took that time to relax. Harry and Hermione took that time with a good book, while Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus got several good chess games in.

That is, until Neville beat Ron, who left angrily. There had been a definite change in Neville over the summer. He seemed more confident, more sure of himself. Not a total transformation, but it still showed itself to those who knew the boy rather well. He hadn't burned through any cauldrons in Potions and seemed to be better understanding the magical theory, even if he still needed help with actually casting the spells. But even that was only occasional. This had led him to having a new confidence about him and it was certainly helping him.

By 4:30, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had all changed and were making their way down the spiral staircase. The school had begun arranging itself out front, by house and year, Gryffindor on left, Hufflepuff next to them, then Ravenclaw, and then Slytherin. The first years were in the front, and seventh years were in the back.

By 5:00, they were all set up.

5:30 came and went without anyone showing up.

"How do you figure the schools are getting here?" Neville whispered to Harry, who shrugged, his eyes scanning the skies.

Then around 6:00, one of the students, a first year Ravenclaw, yelled, "There!".

From the clouds, had burst a massive carriage, pulled by, what looked like eight pure-white pegasi. It came down to rest about 50 feet from the front row of first years who looked nervous at the new arrivals. A small boy jumped down from the driver's seat, hurrying to side.

"Headmistress Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic have arrived!" he announced loudly, putting a small stepping stool to the side of the carriage. The door opened and a woman stepped out. Then as Harry watched, she straightened up to a towering height of almost taller than Hagrid.

"Dumblydor." The woman said through a thick French accent, as Dumbledore made his way over to greet her.

"Madame Maxime." He greeted, bowing slightly and kissing the rings on her fingers.

She moved off to the side and twenty-five girls and five boys exited the carriage, all dressed poorly for the cold of Scotland, as some immediately realized. "I ém noot late, I 'ope." She continued in her heavy French accent.

"Actually, Madame, you are the first one here," Dumbledore confirmed. As he finished, Lee Jordan said, "The lake! Look!"

Everyone's attention switched to look at the normally calm waters which had begun swirling. It became faster and faster, becoming a vortex until a mighty War Galleon surfaced, sails unfurled. As quickly as it formed, the vortex quickly did appeared as the ship slowly moved into shallower waters, the unfurled sails showing the crest of the Durmstrang Institute. Finally, it stopped and an almost impossibly long gang plank extended to the shore, followed by a man with a short, black goatee and shoulder length black hair, dressed in heavy furs. Smiling at Dumbledore, he embraced the elderly wizard.

"Albus."

"Igor."

 _'That just leaves the Americans._ ' Harry thought, everyone looking around to find them.

Then looking at the forest, he saw a person come to the edge, and create red sparks. Then came a hum he knew quite well, a sound that any non-magical-born student would recognize: An airplane.

Sure enough, looking up, he saw a plane flying by and dark shapes seemed to be jumping out of it in groups of two, bright red and white striped robes flapping behind them, looking a lot like their national Quidditch team, the American Eagles. _'Do they have a death wish?_ ' He thought, as shrieks and frightened gasps from other students.

Harry watched the falling witches and wizards and chuckled as he guessed what was going to happen next. Hermione, on the other hand, looked mortified. Given her fear of heights, more specifically falling, it seemed perfectly reasonable to be terrified, but Harry had quickly figured that this was only a gambit on the part of the Americans, a way to impress others.

As he expected, every single one seemed to mount a broom and safely touched down. The last one had a rather tall staff that he stuck into the ground. A bird, a bald eagle, flew in landed on the staff and then transformed back into a man in his mid-thirties. 'Lots of flashiness, interesting.' Harry smiled, as Ron and Neville looked awed at their daring.

As the last touched down, Harry also saw five crates tumbling to the earth above them. Five wands went up from the Americans, and the crates slowed to a stop about six feet of the ground, before slowly being lowered. The man in front was watching his students, before turning back to greet Dumbledore.

Ten minutes later, the three schools had joined the stretched house tables in varying amounts. Slytherin got the bulk of the Durmstrang students, Ravenclaw got the bulk of the Beauxbaton students and Hufflepuff took on the bulk of the Americans, who looked around the castle in curiosity and awe. Only a few Beauxbaton students and Durmstrang students sat at the Gryffindor table. Looking along it, they already seemed to have gotten their fair share of people. Looking towards the back of the table, Harry saw five Salem students. Motioning with his head, he set off towards them with Hermione, Neville, and a grumbling Ron following.

"Hello, mind if we sit here?" Harry asked.

"Not at all," one of the boys replied, with a small smile. He had a lean build, though it was hard to make out, with short white hair and a small goatee to match, with blue-green eyes. The girl next to him had pink hair and and kind, brown eyes. The two of them were holding hands tightly, like a support mechanism. Harry sat down next to the boy, while Neville sat next to the girl.

On the other side of the table, there was a girl who looked surprisingly like Ginny, who Ron decided to sit next to. Two other Americans were there as well, and Hermione sat on the other side of them.

"I'm Alex," The boy with the white hair and goatee introduced himself, "This is Nova." He raised the conjoined hands with the girl he sat with. Nova offered the Hogwarts students a warm smile, and a rush of calm suddenly came over them all, like a warm blanket.

"And I'm Alice!" Chimed the redheaded girl, a spark of life bright in her blue eyes. "Be nice, or else I may just have to make you the subject of one of my portraits!"

"Oh no, not that!" Alex playfully teased her, rolling his eyes. "Anything but that!"

"It's nice to meet you all." Said the other American boy, seated across the table from Alex and Nova. "This castle was raised in the tenth century, was it not?" He had a shock of curly hair red enough to rival the Weasley family, along with a full beard. He continued to babble in this manner until the girl sitting next to him, who had up until that point been silent, reached up to press her hand over his mouth.

"You're being a nerd again. Hush." She ruffled his beard as he protested her touches. "Don't scare the kids, Angus." Angus pouted, and the girl went on. "Tegwen Faulkner, lovely to meet the lot of you." Her voice was deep and cool, giving the same hint of deep forest as the dark green color of her hair. Her eyes were a shocking shade of gold, and they met meaningfully with Angus's brown ones. "Do forgive his over-enthusiastic nature. As you can probably tell by his name and the unending history lesson, the guy really loves Scotland."

"I can't help it, Gwen, everything is just so amazing!" He pleaded with her. "I wonder if any of my ancestors came here?"

"I wonder if you'll ever stop talking." She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, promptly shutting him up.

The group nodded at each person before Hermione spoke up, "I'm Hermione, that's Neville, Harry, and Ron."

"Pleased to meet you all." Alice said smiling, while Nova looked curiously at Hermione.

"Hermione, like the Shakespeare character?" She asked.

"Yes. Unfortunately, my father was a huge fan of the name." Hermione replied, with a hint of a sigh. "So, what is the Salem Institute-" Hermione started before Ron cut across her.

"How did you guys get a Muggle plane?" His eyes were eagerly wide, same for Neville, who just appeared curious.

"It was a one time loan for our Headmaster." Nova said simply.

"And the whole jumping out of it?"

Alex smile genuinely, "Purely for the fun of it." Neville and Ron looked equally impressed, while Harry was grinning broadly and Hermione was trying not to.

"What do you mean, 'It was a one time loan'?" Hermione asked.

"Our Headmaster spoke with President Clinton, got that military drop ship and let us fly it over here." Tegwen shrugged. "The guy seems really fascinated with us, so he let it happen."

"Wait, so the Muggle leaders in the US, know that you guys exist?" Harry gaped in alarm, recalling how the Minister of Magic never really interacted with the rest of the population.

"Of course, your prime Minister knows that witches and wizards exist, I'm sure." Alex leaned forwards, releasing Nova's hand. Hermione shook her head, looking confused.

However, Harry nodded his head. "That makes sense. It's a good explanation of how they got the word out to muggles about Sirius Black, being a murderer."

Hermione shook her head again. "But what about the Statute of Secrecy?"

"That doesn't exist, in any major form, where we're from." Angus answered. "It makes sense that you have it here in Britain, though, seeing as how your population has been historically isolated and the sudden reveal of the wizarding population would cause panic." He took another breath to continue, but Tegwen cut him off again, as Dumbledore stood up to speak.

"It's so nice to see that we all wish to talk to our guests and make them feel at home. This whole competition is to promote international magical unity." He said, as he thought, _'And my own political standing._ ' before continuing, "Now, before we attend to business, let us feast." With a clap, the plates filled with food and people began to eat.

"So, why doesn't the Statute of Secrecy exist in the US?" Hermione asked, clearly confused.

"That's a rather long story." Alex answered, loading a few more food items on his plate, while Nova slapped his bicep. "What was that for?" He exclaimed, rubbing his skin.

"You know what it was for." She scowled at him.

"But there seems to be plenty of food." Nova glared at him, "Okay, I'll take less food. And I'm still growing." As soon as she looked away though, he stuck out his tongue at her. "Where was I?"

"You said it was a long story."

"Ah yes. Now, back towards the end of the Salem Witch Trials, the governor of the town and his wife were both magicals. She got charged with being a witch. Non-magic folk are weird like that, thinking its a bad thing. So, he called in a vote of no confidence and replaced the committee with one that consisted of magicals. The last three women that actually got axed off were magicals who were acting maliciously. But even as the trials had ended, there was still a common thought that magic is evil, so the Governor of Massachusetts set up a school for magicals. The magical families sent their sons there. They also took in the magical children of non-magicals, because they were at risk of being killed. You know, Christianity and all that."

Eager to help out, Angus once again chimed in. "This remained the same until 1961. President Kennedy had been voted in and our Headmaster decided to meet with him. They talked for a couple weeks, and finally the President allowed us to begin coming out to the people but warned us of the possible backlash. So we tried it and as it became more and more known in New England, many people were supportive. Not some of the more traditional churches, but they are becoming fewer every year. Some American companies have recently added a magical side too. But going back, the Statute of Secrecy wasn't put in place until 1693, a whole year after the end of the Salem trials. We really just ignored it." The entire dinner and dessert passed in such a manner, with everyone looking interested, Tegwen being the exception. She must have heard this spiel many times before. "Salem is also known as a hotspot for magical activity, because two separate ley lines cross, resulting in a wellspring of magical energies. The locals have come to accept us and we bring them all sorts of tourism, so it works both ways." Angus finished up, more for the benefit of the Hogwarts students.

Once the food was finished, Dumbledore stood up again to address the students. "Now that we have all have food, let me explain more of the tournament. The Quadriwizard Tournament used to be the Triwizard Tournament. But, in order to broaden the scope, we turned to ask if others would like to join. As you can see, the United States has accepted. Now, I must warn you. Because of the danger of these tasks, there is an age limit-" He was cut off by complaints from the students, which included Ron and the twins.

"SILENCE!" He roared, issuing a sound like a cannon blast from his wand, quickly bringing the hall back to order. "Now, because of the inherent and considerable danger of these tasks, the age limit is 17. No student under that age will be allowed to compete. I will be adding protections to negate any possibility of it happening. Each school will have one champion who must get through all three tasks. They will be judged by six judges, myself, Madame Maxime, Headmaster Karkaroff, Headmaster Williams, Bartemius Crouch Senior, and Ludo Bagman." Polite applause filled the hall as each person stood when they were called.

Waving his wand, a plinth appeared next to him, with a large, ornate, stone goblet on top. With a quick few taps of Dumbledore's wand, runes began glowing around the goblet and a blue flame popped into existence along the brim. "The Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore said simply, as it would explain everything. "This artifact will decide who shall compete. If you should wish to enter the tournament, simply write your name upon a piece of paper and throw it into the flames. But do not do so lightly. If you should be chosen, there will be no way out, except to finish the tournament. We will announce the participants during dinner, on October the 31st! You have until then to submit your name. Now, off to bed."

*'*_ _*'*

The Americans all huddled together in their tents after the feast was concluded. Alex, Nova, Alice, Angus, and Tegwen were all eager to discuss who would enter.

"I think that I should put my name in. I don't want you guys to get hurt." Alex stated. "Besides, we all know that I'm the strongest of our group."

To his side, Nova made a gagging noise. "Please, spare us the brave talking. You just want to do that thing where you insist upon sacrificing yourself for the good of the group. Oh, and so that you can catch Ashley's eye." Alex appeared to be flustered at her answer, so she decided to have some fun, "You do realize that she probably won't notice you, even if you are able to get into the tournament." Alex grumbled softly, folding his arms. "Anywho, I think that we should all put our names in, so that we can all be judged equally.

The group nodded despite the protests from the white-haired boy. "Guys, you can't be serious!"

"I'm entering, no matter what you say." Tegwen nodded, and Angus looked alarmed. "I want to show them how our system trumps theirs."

"Babe, what if you lose?" Angus grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. "I don't want to lose you."

"It would take way more than some contest to kill me, you know that." She stood up, fishing a black lipstick from her pocket and swishing it on. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I'm gonna go put my name in tomorrow." During breakfast the next morning, three names were entered into the goblet: Tegwen Faulkner, Angus Baird, and Alex Yeltom.


	7. Chapter 6: Salem

**A/N: And this was updated on 07/23/2016**

 **Chapter Six: Salem**

The 31st flew by in a blur. Before Harry knew it, it was time for dinner. He sat with Alex and Nova this time. The other three had decided to sit somewhere else. Ron didn't join them, complaining that Viktor Krum was sitting at the Slytherin table. Harry was still scratching his head over this. Not all of the Slytherins were bad. As the Sorting Hat said, they are just ambitious, a quality that was valued by many people. Dinner passed with Alex offering him an invitation to come to the Salem site and join them for a night or two. Dinner ended quickly and everyone began talking in excited tones, eager to see who would be chosen.

"We have waited, and wondered," Dumbledore said from the front, "And now we will know who has been chosen." Waving his hand, the flames from the brazier's went from roaring fires to lightly burning coals. As Dumbledore stood and approached, the Goblet's fire grew into a ten foot wall of blue fire, turned red, and a piece of parchment was spat out of the top.

Catching the piece of parchment out of the air, Dumbledore spoke.

"The Durmstrang Champion is...Victor Krum!" There was an eruption of cheers that went through the hall, Durmstrang students all congratulating Krum. He went to the front and Dumbledore showed him to an antechamber. Returning to the front, the Goblet flared again, spitting out a second piece of parchment. "The Beauxbatons Champion is...Fleur Delacour!" Once again, she walked to the front and was shown to the antechamber. The Goblet flared a third time. "The Salem Champion is...Alex Yeltom!" Harry cheered loudly. Alex had seemed like a pretty good guy and it would be awesome if he won. Harry would be more than happy if they all just managed to survive. The Goblet flared a fourth time. "And the Hogwarts Champion is...Cedric Diggory!" Applause followed the final champion.

"Excellent, we now have our four champions! Now..." Dumbledore started, before the Goblet flared up once more. Everyone looked curiously at the Goblet. All the Champions had been picked, so what was going on?

Another piece of parchment was spat out. Dumbledore grabbed it out of the air, as the fire shrank, smaller and smaller, until it went out, and the runes on the Goblet stopped glowing.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called. Harry was frozen in horror and shock. What had just happened? Hermione shoving him forward put his brain back into motion and he slowly made his way to the front, before Dumbledore pointed him in the direction of antechamber. He entered and quickly met the other champions.

"Why are you here, Harry?" Alex asked, his eyes narrowed. "My name came-" was all Harry could get out before there was a thunderous bang of a door slamming open, followed by the sound of arguing voices, which were becoming louder and louder. The school heads and judges, with Professors Moody and Snape, all entered. Madame Maxime was yelling loudly, switching between English and French, while Moody was yelling back at her. Snape was talking with Dumbledore, Headmaster Williams looked impassive, Headmaster Karkaroff looked livid, and Bagman and Crouch were arguing about the age rule and contracts. All in all, general pandemonium.

"Harry! Harry!" Dumbledore finally came forward, and asked Harry very calmly, "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"No, sir." He shook his head.

"Did you ask another student to put it in for you?"

"No, sir." Another shake of the head.

"But, of course, he lies!" Madame Maxime bellowed, "'ow else could 'e 'ave poossibly entaired?"

"It matters not. Durmstrang wishes to take no further part in this…charade." Karkaroff said, "And I thought that the Americans would be the ones who would cheat." He spat, making to pull Krum away, before Crouch stopped him. "If Mr. Krum does not compete, he will lose his magic. It is part of the rules and contract that was put into the Goblet, and that each participant was entered into when they were picked." Karkaroff, somehow, looked even more furious, but he had to concede to the fact that this was part of a binding contract.

Surprisingly, the Salem Headmaster had stayed silent, with Alex standing next to him. However, at the mention of the contracts, Alex spoke up, "Hold up just one fu- flipping second. We were entered into a magical contract when we were chosen?" He said, catching himself before he actually swore.

Mr. Crouch nodded without looking at him, "It was the only agreed way for the champions to have to compete."

Calming himself, Alex stepped forward, looking Harry dead-on. "Who put your name in that cup?"

"I don't know."

Alex studied him for a few more moments, before smiling. "Then, I hope you don't think I'll just let you beat me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. But Cedric is the true Hogwarts Champion. I'll just be looking to get through this in one piece."

"Indeed. Headmaster," Alex said, turning back to his Headmaster, "Young Mr. Potter wishes to visit our campsite, under my supervision. Permission?"

"He didn't ask you, you asked him. And, you would smuggle him in, even if I said no. So, I might as well just say yes." Headmaster Williams said, with a smile.

*'*_ _*'*

Harry was glad that at least seven person believed him, because it quickly turned out that they were the only ones to believe him: Hermione, Neville, Alex, Nova, Tegwen, Angus, and Alice.

Ron, unsurprisingly, seemed to be of the mind that Harry got himself entered as a way to boost his popularity. This was getting ridiculous. Ron didn't seem to realize just how much he had that he never would. He had a mother, father, and several siblings. He had a family, something that had been denied to Harry since he had been left on the doorsteps of the Dursley's. He wanted to rant and rail against Dumbledore, to convince him to be allowed to live with Sirius, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Dumbledore would always simply send him back to the Dursley's. But, with Vernon gone, Harry supposed that it couldn't be all bad.

It was actually surprising for him when Hedwig met him on the morning of November fifth.

"Good morning, girl." Harry greeted her, before seeing a letter attached to her leg. "Is that for me?" He asked, stroking her feathers.

Hedwig did, what Harry assumed to be, the owl's impression of a nod, and stuck out her leg for him to take the letter.

He did so, and as she took a couple pieces of bacon, he opened it and began to read:

 _Harry,_  
 _I'm not going to make this a long drawn out letter._  
 _We have been absolutely horrible to you. I know_  
 _that my sister would never have done the same to_  
 _Dudley had she ever been asked to look after him._  
 _I have no right to ask that you return, but if you_  
 _ever need help, I will do my best to help you._  
 _Family is first._

 _Petunia Dursley_

 _P.S. Remember, Remember, the fifth of November..._

Harry almost felt dumbfounded by the letter. Petunia had taken the time to actually write after she had told him that she wanted to repair the broken relationship that they were suffering through. Though he smiled at the post-script. Leave it to Petunia to remember that he loved "V for Vendetta".

The upside came on Sunday. As Harry, Hermione, and Neville made there way down to dinner, Harry saw Alex and Nova standing outside, away from the stares, looking around. When Alex saw him, he came over.

"Mr. Potter, this may be terribly rude of me to ask, but would you mind joining us in our campsite tonight?"

"Sure, it beats being in here." Harry said, following Alex and Nova outside. They followed them outside, towards the Forbidden Forest, just noticing the small city of tents that had been set up. Ducking into one of the larger tents, marked "Mess", Harry was somewhat assaulted by the scents. Neville was looking around confused, while Hermione was smiling.

"Barbecue! That's what we need to introduce to Hogwarts!" Hermione exclaimed. The quintet spent a relaxing dinner in the tent, getting closer as friends. Angus ran by, tapping Alex on the shoulder.

"Game's about to start."

"Already? Geez, c'mon. This is what I also wanted to show you. Have any of you seen American football?"

"What?" All three asked. "It's just football, isn't it?"

Alex grinned broadly. "It is a lot more than just football."

The next several minutes were spent, while walking to another tenet, explaining the basics of the game, how many players, why they weren't flying, why there was only one ball. Then they entered one of the other large tents to enter something akin to an amphitheater. Stands on one side, and on the other a television screen blown up to a 22 foot by 52 foot screen.

"That's not going to work." Hermione said, almost absentmindedly.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" Alex asked, looking at her one they found seats. Harry and Neville groaned. They weren't going to hear the end of this.

"Well, for starters, the ambient magic of the sch-" was as far as she got before the screen turned on, the NFL theme began, and cheers went up among the students. Staring flabbergasted, Hermione was reduced to asking, "How, this is...how...?"

"One, I designed the system. It feeds on ambient magic or from a person pumping magic into it. Two, there's a great many things we can do. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Magic is simply another form of energy. Convert it in the right way, and, well..." Alex replied.

"What was that?" Neville asked, as the kickoff happened. "That's how these games start. One team kicks it off to the other team." Alex replied.

"Why are they all wearing that much padding?" Harry's question was answered by physicality of the next few plays. Not a minute later, a large groan came up as the Bills scored.

"So, we're rooting for the Patriots?" Neville asked, his pronunciation putting a heavy emphasis on the 'ri'.

"Yup, though we pronounce it pay-tree-ets." Alex grinned, joining almost every American student was eagerly watching the game. The only people who looked uninterested were Tegwen and Nova, who were both off to the side. "Hey, come on and watch the game!"

"Not interested." Nova shrugged.

"You've been trying to teach me how this glorified game of assault, theft, and throw worked since you first met me, and I still don't get it." Tegwen was focused on something, staring at the wall of the tent. "Did you know that the lake has a giant squid in it? I'm going to go talk to it!" She stood up and raced out of the tent, eyes changing from having golden irises to entirely pitch black in a flash.

At the next kickoff, a great cheer went up as the Patriots moved the ball past the 30 and 40 yard marks, before being pushed out right around the 50 yard mark. The first quarter ended with a Patriots touchdown and extra point, bringing the game to 14-7 with the Bills still in the lead. However, by the fourth quarter, things were looking a bit more hopeful. The Patriots had rallied and now trailed only by three points. With 30 seconds left, they tried two passing plays. One was knocked down and the other was complete, but tackled before they could go for a touchdown.

The amphitheater was deathly silent the whole past minute. But as the Patriots tried to signal a timeout, they remembered that they had used all of them, groans and yells began to break out from the hardcore fans. The game ended 38 to 35, with the Buffalo Bills as the winners.

Commenting on the game, the students all began to go their separate ways.

"Thanks for having us over." Harry said, as the group walked back towards the castle.

"Well, I'm sure he's happy to see you too..." Alex said under his breath, but Harry still heard and looked up at the front steps of the school.

Albus Dumbledore stood there, looking...Harry didn't know how to describe it. It wasn't really relief, but it looked a bit angry... "Harry, my boy. So good to see you made it back safely. May I speak privately with you?"

"Of course, sir." Harry went up to join the headmaster.

Turning back when the doors closed, Alex sighed, "I've got a terrible feeling about that man..."

"Don't worry, I do too." Nova replied, patting his shoulder, as they turned back to the tent city.

The grounds were all but silent, occasionally broken by a series of splashing and laughing coming from the lake.

*'*_ _*'*

"Harry, you need to be more careful." Dumbledore chided, looking at the young boy beside him.

"Why is that, Headmaster?" Harry asked, with an expression laced by the naivety of youth.

"The Americans cannot be trusted. They are waiting to take you out of the competition, permanently."

' _That's not right at all._ ' Harry thought, ' _but...it makes sense...he just wants me out of the competition..._ '

Albus smiled at the new resolve on Harry's face.

Nothing would disrupt his plans. Leaning back in his chair, he watched Harry leave his office, as he remembered the night, a few months ago...

 **_-=-_ FLASHBACK _-=-_**

"Good evening"

"...And to you, sir..."

"Everything is in place."

"Yes, he will be entered, and now we both stand to succeed."

"Excellent, and you're sure that this will draw Voldemort into the open?"

"Absolutely."

"Then we will proceed as planned."

"You know how he's going to react to this..."

"I do. Which is why you won't tell him."

"And how do you plan on enforcing that?"

"IMPERIO!"


	8. Chapter 7: The Weighing of the Wands

**A/N: And now it has been updated on 07/24/2016**

 **Chapter Seven: Weighing of the Wands**

"I just don't want to sit with you." Harry said to Alex's confused expression. Alex squinted, before moving to the Ravenclaw table. Before Harry went back to eating, he felt that that had been wrong to say, but he couldn't put his finger on why it had been wrong. _'Psshaw. It was only dirty cheating Americans_.' He tried to reassure himself. But niggling doubts at the back of his mind wouldn't leave. That week since he had finally realized what the Americans were all about was also turning into the worst week of his life, sans any of his first ten years with the Dursleys. Hermione had, somehow, developed a close friendship with Nova, and seemed to want to stick around her asking of how emotion effected magic. Harry still wasn't sure how either had accomplished the feat of standing the other.

"...Harry...Harry!" Hermione said, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry, Hermione, what is it?" He replied, trying to ignore Ron shoveling food down his throat.

"It's just that Hagrid has been looking for you."

"Why?"

"He wouldn't say, but he sounded serious."

"Alright, I'll go see him later. " Looking up towards the staff, he saw that Hagrid was talking with the Salem Headmaster. Frowning, he tried to get back to his own meal. Since he had last met Dumbledore, he had begun really disliking the Americans. Or had he always disliked them, and simply been trying to get an advantage on Alex? It was confusing to him, so he decided to put it out of his mind.

Care of Magical Creatures was their first class that day. Hagrid seemed to have gotten his love of "misunderstood" creatures and kept going with it. He had a small pigsty built when they went out to the class.

"Alright, gather 'round now. Today, I'll be introducin' you ter Nogtails. Little buggers love ter get inter pigsties. I just need yer ter observe 'em today." And the entirety of the class was simply that, observing the little pig-demons.

After the Care of Magical Creatures class, Hagrid held him back. "'Arry, I need ter see you for a quick extra lesson. Tonight, 10 o'clock, meet me by me hut."

"Sure thing, Hagrid." Harry smiled, happy to have an excuse to relax with the half-giant. Runes, Transfiguration, and Charms all felt as if they moving at a snail's pace. After all his classes and dinner, he covered himself in his father's invisibility cloak, and quickly moved down to the grounds, to meet up with Hagrid. He was standing next to his house, dressed a little differently than how he normally chose to present himself.

His hair and beard seemed to be combed. As he got close, he pulled the hood off of his face. "Hagrid?" The half-giant almost seemed to give a start. "Harry, good ter see you." He said, giving Harry a tight hug. Harry smiled at the enthusiastic grounds-keeper.

"So, what are we doing Hagrid?" His hesitation set some alarm off in Harry's head, but he ignored it. It couldn't mean anything. Then felt a spell hit his back and his world transformed to black nothingness.

 ***'*_ _*'***

He suddenly woke back up, to come face to face with the Salem Headmaster. Trying to scramble backwards, he found he couldn't move, save for his mouth. "What was that, you bloody coward?"

"The only way I was going to be able to examine you." Came the curt reply.

"Why the bloody hell are you examining me? Cheating this early? Trying to get me out of the competition like this? You Americans really are shameless. But we'll get you. Imperiusing Hagrid will get you time in Azkaban."

"What have we done to offend you, Mr. Potter?" The question stopped his rant cold.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I asked. What problem have you recently developed with us, despite showing a close friendship with a few of our students?," Harry opened his mouth, and nothing came out. Opening and closing his mouth, he found he couldn't find a good reason for any of his behavior.

"Ah-ha! Gotcha, you little shit." The Headmaster said, his eyes closed and his wand held aloft. Harry was about to return his own swears to the Headmaster, before he felt his mind clear from a fog that he hadn't realized was there until now.

"What was that?"

"A compulsion charm. It seems that someone didn't want you getting close with my school."

"Why not?"

"I cannot say, not without knowing the culprit...Can you remember when this change started?"

"After I met with Dumbledore..." Harry replied, before a nasty shock seemed to rear its head. "Wait, you don't think..." Dumbledore wouldn't do this to him. He had no reason to do it…

"I do, even I'm very much hoping not." The man responded. Harry put the thought that Dumbledore was trying to manipulate him at the back of his mind. "Thank you, then, Mister...?"

"Williams. Mark Harrison Williams, twenty-ninth Headmaster for the Salem Institute for the Magically Gifted." The man said, extending his hand for Harry to shake. Harry shook, already liking the man "So did Hagrid really want to show me something or was it just you wanting to talk to me?"

"No, Hagrid did want to see you. Apparently, he has something to show you and I believe it is vital for the first task, which is why I haven't seen you at all tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I just said."

"But you have seen me, and I'm not allowed to know what is going to happen."

"I have not seen you here, and I sincerely doubt that is the attitude that Madame Maxime and Highmaster Karkaroff will take to that. I am probably going to alert Alex to this, as well."

"I would much appreciate Alex getting through the tournament alive." Harry followed Mark outside, covered in the invisibility cloak, where he saw Hagrid. "Is 'e doing okay, Headmaster Williams, sir?"

"He's just tuckered out. Don't worry, he will be fine in about ten minutes. But, we must remember that he is in his dormitory."

"'Ats good to hear, Headmaster, sir."

"And I believe our other delegates are arriving now." Williams said, looking out towards the grounds where Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were moving towards them.

"Good ter see 'at yer all here. Now, this is to show you, as the judges, what the champions will find themselves up against. Follow me." Hagrid turned and walked into the forest, the other School Heads following, with Harry sneaking in the rear.

Twenty minutes into the walk, Harry heard distant roaring, and after another ten minutes, the small group came upon a clearing with five cages, each housing a different dragon. The largest cage housed a entirely black dragon with yellow eyes, that seemed to glow from the darkness. A crown of spikes showed around its neck and jets of flame flew from its jaws, spewing up to forty feet. A team of wizards were rushing around it, trying to avoid the flames. "Stunners! On three!" A voice rang out, barely above the roar of the flames. "One! Two! Three!"

Eight jets of red light flew at the dragon, lighting up the night briefly. The dragon seemed to collapse in its cage in slow motion. Only when he saw that the dragon handlers were relaxing, did he relax. The others seemed to share that sentiment, except for Madame Maxime, who seemed as enraptured by the giant beasts as Hagrid was.

Harry carefully moved around the group as a red-haired dragon tamer came over to the group. Harry recognized Charlie Weasley, and was thankful that it was Charlie who seemed to be in charge. Looking at the other dragons Harry realized that the other dragons weren't small either, the black one in the largest cage was just seen first. The other four cages held their own dragons. There was another that was almost entirely black, its eyes a bright purple. Another that was a light blue-gray color, shuffling around, seemingly unable to get comfortable. Then, a bright green one, that looked smaller than all the rest. And finally, a red one with a...mane? Harry didn't know how to describe it, besides comparing it to the lion's mane he had seen at the zoo, all those years ago...

He brought himself back to the present, remembering just how late it was. Taking off for the school, he was panting out the password about an hour later. Thankfully, the common room was deserted. Quickly heading up, Harry changed into his pajamas and went to bed, his dreams interspersed with fire and dragons.

 ***'*_ _*'***

"Dragons?" Hermione questioned, in a shocked whisper, "What else do you know about it?"

"Nothing else, besides that all school heads know of it."

"So we can assume that they all agreed that you can face dragons?"

Harry sighed deeply, "Hermione, I doubt they thought that someone could get in who wasn't supposed to. Though, Dumbledore has been acting kind of weird lately."

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"Well, he just seems-"

"Mr. Potter, while you are incapable of passing my class in the most basic of ways, I will have to take off points for trying to pull others down with you. Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape said, from right behind them. Slytherin laughter rang out through the dungeon as Hermione immediately went back to her potion, while Harry groaned, going back to his potion.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Colin Creevey entered, walking up to Professor Snape and handed him a note. Snape quickly read the note, before looking up.

"Potter!"

Harry's head snapped back up, looking at Snape.

"Apparently, you have been excused from class. The other...champions...have need of your attention." Snape sneered, the note burning on contact with his wand. "Mr. Creevey will...escort you."

Harry quickly packed up his school things and left, amid jeers from some of the Slytherins, Colin in tow.

Colin led him to the entrance hall, where the other four champions were waiting, with the headmasters, a woman with magenta robes, and Mr. Ollivander. She seemed to be trying to get an interview out of Alex.

"So, why did you want to enter the tournament?" She asked with an almost sickly-sweet voice.

"Because it's fun to be allowed to hurt others." Alex replied, an almost feral grin on his face, seeming to scare her white, before Williams smacked the back of his head.

"Seriously, you too?"

"Seems to work well. Now, be nice to the reporter."

"Fine..."

"Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, the woman's head swiveling so fast it almost seemed to snap her neck, "Good, now we're all here. Now, Mr. Ollivander will check your wands, just to make sure they are in proper working order."

Mr. Ollivander nodded, "Miss Delacour, you first, if you please." She rose and presented her wand to him.

"Yes...hmm..." He said, rolling it between his fingers, "twenty four centimeters...inflexible...rosewood and...Veela hair?"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of one of my grandmuzzer's."

"An interesting core...but everything seems to be in order." Ollivander said, finishing by having a bouquet of flowers erupt from the end of her wand, and handing it back to her.

"Mr. Diggory, if you would please."

Cedric handed over his wand, and Ollivander inspected it, "Aah yes...one of my own...thirty two centimeters...pleasantly springy...ash and unicorn tail...yes I remember that unicorn now...Avis!" He said, and bird flew from the end moving to the rafters before disappearing. "Excellent. Mr. Krum."

Krum stepped forward, handing over his own wand. "Aah, a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm very much mistaken...Very thick...rigid...hornbeam and dragon heartstring..." Ollivander finished with creating smoke rings from the end of the wand. "Good." He said, handing the wand back to Krum. "Now, Mr. Yeltom? Any relation to a Mrs. Gevewn Yeltom?"

"I see you recognize the name."

"Yes...Your grandparents are notorious wand crafters, having each customer's wand prepared for them with hand-picked elements...quite ingenious..."

"I will let their graves know of your praise, sir." Alex handed off his wand to Ollivander, who held it up, "Aah, birch...definitely tricky...slightly springy...twenty five and a half centimeters...and a dragon heartstring core..." He waved it and sparks flew out before arranging into a star shape. "Everything is in working order. Which leaves...Mr. Potter."

Harry presented his wand to Ollivander, who took it, before his eyes lit up, "Ah, yes...how I remember this wand...holly and phoenix tail feather...twenty eight centimeters...flexible...Good, they are all in working order."

Harry took his wand back, and began heading for the door, before he was brought up short by a shout. "Pictures, Dumbledore!" The reporter had almost screamed.

"Quite right, Miss Skeeter." Dumbledore agreed and the next few hours were taken up by photograph after photograph for the Skeeter woman who seemed to work for the Daily Prophet. She then went after several interviews, one for each champion and headmaster. Though from what Harry could see of the articles they were tabloids, meant to be opinion columns, so people wouldn't take any of it seriously…He hoped.


	9. Chapter 8: First Task

**A/N: And here is the next chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it, along with the updates.**

 **Chapter Eight: The First Task**

The 25th of November rose, cold and bright. Today was it, all that Harry had been practicing for. Today he would have to face one of the dragons. He joined his usual group down in the Great Hall.

"Good luck Harry." Hermione said, hugging him tightly. "You'll do really good, I know it." She said, quickly hugging him. He gave her a reassuring hug back and shook Neville's hand as they went to the stands and he moved to the Champion's Tent. Upon entering he saw that all the other Champions were already there.

Cedric was pacing nervously, Fleur was meditating, Krum was glowering at him, and Alex was whaling on a punching bag that had obviously not originally been there. Finally, with a sigh, Alex stopped and the tent descended into a tense silence, as the sounds of the surrounding stands got louder and louder.

Finally, all four Headmasters came in. "Champions, you have waited and wondered what this task will be." Dumbledore said, as an official was holding a smoking bag.

"Hot potato?" Alex said, Harry noticing the tiniest smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Unfortunately, no, Mr. Yeltom." Dumbledore said, grimacing, while Headmaster Williams was struggling to keep a straight face. "You will be facing dragons. The objective is to retrieve a golden egg from the nest that the dragon will be guarding." Krum and Fleur didn't flinch. _'I guess they knew too_.'

The bag got passed around, everyone taking out a miniature dragon with a number tied around its neck. Fleur drew a Green Welsh, with a number two. Cedric drew a Swedish Short-Snout, with a number one. Krum drew a Chinese Fireball, with a number three. Alex drew a Hebridean Black, with a number four. Harry gulped as he saw what Alex had drawn. That left the Hungarian Horntail. And sure enough, sticking his hand in, Harry drew it out, with a number five hanging around its neck.

"Very good. Now in a few moments, Mr. Diggory, we will call you out. You four are welcome to watch how the event unfolds." Dumbledore said, as each of the four Headmasters went to their students. Dumbledore came over and said, "You can both do well. Make Hogwarts proud." before leaving.

Harry, Alex, and Victor all went to watch Cedric battle it out with his dragon. The dragon was guided to the nest without much difficulty, but through the research that Hermione had been doing, Harry knew that getting the dragon back off of the nest was going to be the challenge. The cannon blast sounded as Cedric slowly made his way onto the field. This was not going to be fun.

Harry was impressed by the thought that Cedric had shown. The Swedish Short-Snout was not known to be very aggressive. However, whoever came to that conclusion had never been around a female defending her nest. She didn't move very much, as her wings restricted most of her movements across the ground. But the intense heat of her flames was more than enough to be afraid. Cedric was spending his time running from rock to rock, each melting after being exposed to the stream of fire for a few moments. Eventually, he stopped running and the dragon appeared ready to fry him, when a dog suddenly came bounding out from behind him, towards the side. This was quickly joined by a second and third, taking the dragon's attention away from Cedric and onto the new threats. And when she looked away, Cedric made his move.

Jumping up, he sprinted toward the nest, avoiding the lashing tail, grabbed the golden egg and booked it out of the ring. He had a slight misfortune of catching the end of one of the spouts of fire from the dragon, as the handlers came out to subdue the beast. A couple officials helped him to his feet as he moved to a different tent, where Madame Pomfrey ushered him inside.

One down, four more to go.

Fleur made her way into the enclosure to face off against the Welsh Green. It wasn't moving to attack her, but it seemed to be locked in a staring contest, with the first to break being declared the loser. Slowly, her wand came up like a conductor's baton before she started to move it slowly, bringing forth beautiful music for everyone to hear. This went on for a minute before Harry realized what she was trying to do.

The dragon's eyes had begun to tremble slightly, the lid coming closed before snapping back open. But it still didn't attack. After another 5 minutes, it was standing quite wobbly, before laying down on its stomach, it's body still wrapped around the nest. The eyes finally slammed shut and rumbling snores filled the stadium. Harry smiled, the thought of putting it to sleep having not occurred to him before. Fleur then moved like the wind, lithely moving over the scales, before snatching the egg.

Unfortunately, the dragon seemed to wake up at that moment. Itss claws came out and caught her arm, bringing forth a river of blood. The handlers came in to subdue the dragon and Fleur went off to the medical tent.

Krum moved out onto the field, the Chinese Fireball looking at him, almost hungrily. Which very well may have been the case, as Harry remembered that Chinese Fireballs had a propensity for eating people. Why the hell did they have one here in a tournament for young adults? As soon as the cannon blast sounded, Krum was sprinting towards the dragon, which surged forwards as well.

Moving with some small amount of hulking grace, Krum kept trying to get around the dragon's teeth, claws, and fire, but without any success. Finally he seemed to grow tired of that, firing some spells as the dragon before a Conjunctivitis Curse caught the dragon's eyes. The dragon stood on its hind legs, blindly thrashing out, trying to hit him. Krum used this opportunity to dart forwards, grabbed the egg and made it to the tent. However, the dragon had crushed several of the real dragon eggs that placed there, greatly reducing his overall score.

Now, it was Alex's turn. Harry felt his stomach tighten. The Hebridean Black was a large dragon and it looked almost ready to kill, the purple eyes more menacing than the VoldeQuirell amalgamation in his first year.

Alex seemed to be perfectly at ease. Looking up, he seemed to see someone. Holding up his hand, he made a fist, before extending the pinky. He then curled it up, like he was sealing a pinky promise. He then moved to cover as the dragon shot purple flames towards him, and so he went, from cover to cover, avoiding the fire until he tripped and the dragon spewed a load of fire out of his mouth, completely covering him. Harry looked on, horrified.

Looking up, he saw that Headmaster Williams was on his feet, almost taking off, if not for Madame Maxime's grip on his arm. Dumbledore and Karkaroff were looking on impassively, but Harry was certain that Dumbledore was chuckling at the Alex's bad luck.

Eventually, the flames stopped, the only thing left being a black burn spot on the ground. The dragon seemed to be content and unfurled itself, looking for more potential threats. Then the golden egg rose and quickly moved to the side, only to be shown as the Champion when the Disillusionment charm wore off. A huge cheer went up in the stands at that, and Harry saw both Tegwen and Nova hurrying off to the tent. Harry released a huge breath that he had been holding. At least Alex had gotten out safely.

Now it was Harry's turn. The crowds cheering lessened as he entered the arena, chants for and against him dropping to half their normal volume. The Hungarian Horntail stood by the eggs and, a cannon blast later, unleashed a fiery torrent, forcing Harry to find cover. From his cover, Harry quickly yelled, "Accio Firebolt!" Praying that he had put enough into the spell, he did as Cedric had done, moving from rock to rock, trying to stay in cover.

Then he heard it.

He didn't know how he heard it, but he heard the broom flying through the air toward him. Without needing to look, he leapt onto the broom and flew up into the air. He could hear the crowd, see them point, but he shut it all out. "Come and get me." He said, taunting the dragon by keeping out of range of her claws and dodging her fire, but staying close enough to keep her annoyed. Finally, after a spectacular air show, where Harry avoided volley after volley of fire, the Horntail finally stretched its wings, getting ready to fly after him. Harry saw this and prepared himself and, as it flapped its wings to take flight and get him, he dived.

The wind whistled in his ears as he grabbed the egg and relief flooded his body. But he forgot about the name of the dragon as its tail came down across his back, knocking him from the broom and to the ground. He rolled and came to a stop, seeing the blue sky and tournament officials around him, before he passed out.

Hermione and Neville were up and moving as soon as Harry had gotten the egg, only for their joy to turn to horror as he got hit by the horned tail. They forced their way through the crowd, trying to get inside the tent, but the officials had placed wards that kept out everyone who wasn't as a champion, healer or official.

*MEANWHILE*

Alex sighed and rubbed his head as he faced the dual tirade coming his way from Nova and Tegwen.

"You promised that you weren't going to use a Disillusionment Charm!" Nova scolded, running her hands over his minor injuries, working to heal them.

"Those poor dragons are all furious...I can't believe that the task was set up this way! It's cruel!" Tegwen was pacing about the room. "And those handlers! They don't know a damn thing about how to handle their charges!" She was growing angrier by the minute. "If I get my hands on that Charlie Weasley, I'll...I'll...I'll feed him to that Horntail!" A loud roar was heard from far away, immediately reducing the green-haired girl to tears. "They are mourning for their lost eggs…" Alex could tell that her emotions were rising. "You can't save them all, Gwen…" He gestured to the cot beside him, and hugged his devastated friend.

Soon enough, it was time for Harry to come back inside, his task complete. The tent was abuzz with motion.

Daphne Greengrass looked over the latest champion to enter the tent. Everyone else had come away with small injuries compared to this. Contrary to what a lot of other people, specifically Gryffindors and Slytherins, thought, she didn't hate Potter.

She shared a rivalry with him and that he could be brought down a few pegs, but he was a good person. And he treated everyone pretty equally. When they dueled, even though she was a girl, he didn't hold back, making her work for her victories. And now, here he was, beaten almost to a pulp. She felt a lump begin to rise in her throat but shoved it back down.

Thankfully, she had been given lessons by Madam Pomfrey and her mother in healing magics. She began a diagnostic spell and it counted out the injuries that she could see...and then it kept going. A list as long as her arm was forming, and she was getting a little paler just listening to it. She linked the spell to a quill and parchment. After is stopped writing, she picked up the parchment and read it through once, twice, and a third time before she took off at a run for Madame Pomfrey.

"Madame Pomfrey, Madame Pomfrey!" She said, bursting into the area where said woman was trying to treat the Bulgarian champion. Magical exhaustion was a tricky thing and if it was done incorrectly it could end up damaging someone's core.

Madame Pomfrey saw Daphne and gave the girl a rejuvenation potion, used to counter the effects of magical exhaustion, but put the drinker to sleep for a few hours. Madame Pomfrey took the list that Daphne had, before pocketing it and moving to the area was at. Once they were near him, Madame Pomfrey turned to Daphne.

"You know what patient confidentiality is, right?" Daphne nodded, realizing how serious this was. "I found most of this list from when I treated him in his third year. I suggest that if you want to know more that you ask Harry. But be prepared to be rebuked. He is a very private person and can take a while before he trusts others."

Daphne nodded. She had no conscious intentions of asking Potter where those injuries had come from, but her own subconscious' natural curiosity was a whole other matter.

"Either way," Madame Pomfrey continued, "We need to put his back, back together. I trust you have that well in hand." Daphne began to nod her head, but then shook her head. Cuts like this were prone to infection and needed hours, if not days to heal. It was also a difficult thing not to leave scars, especially for non-experienced healers. Madame Pomfrey nodded, muttering about idiots and the Ministry and sometimes both next to each other.

 ***'*_ _*'***

Harry woke up to the feeling of someone putting something on his back. He tried to roll over, but whoever it was had him pinned. So instead, he tried to focus on the hands themselves. "Relax, Potter. I'm just putting on some anti-scarring cream."

Well, that certainly narrowed down the possible list of candidates. Slytherin, probably, and at least a 6th year, because it definitely was not Madame Pomfrey and they were the only ones who she took into her Healer Studies class.

Daphne looked down at Harry from where she was straddling his back. Thank god, he had finally come around. It was rather unnerving to treat around patient who was fine, but didn't respond to normal stimuli. She felt him relax under her hands and drift back to dreamland.

"You like him, don't you?"

Daphne nearly shrieked. "Madame Pomfrey, please don't do that." She tried to sound angry, but her heart was thumping a million miles an hour.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I don't want him dead. Happy?"

The nurse grinned to herself. "It will have to do. Now, would you stop straddling him, I can only keep Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom out for only so long."

Daphne quickly got off the bed, looking at Harry before heading into the nurse's office, while Madame Pomfrey let Neville, Hermione, and Ron in.

All three rushed over to Harry, who was waking up again. "Hey guys." He said, smiling weakly, slowly trying turn over. Hermione fidgeted as he turned, before flinging herself at him, simultaneously trying to crush him and hug him gently

Neville stood, smiling at him. "Did you forget that it's called a 'Horntail'?"

"Yeah, I was very focused on getting the egg."

"Well, keep it in mind if you ever try that again." Neville offered back, as Hermione finally let go of Harry. Looking around, he saw Ron hanging back. "And why are you here now?" He called to the redhead.

Looking back, Ron seemed to be having an internal struggle. It wasn't terribly uncommon with him and Harry had quickly learned the signs. He knew them well enough to know what Ron would be doing. Sure enough, Ron turned walked out of the Hospital wing. Harry exhaled, closing his eyes and leaning back.

When he opened them again, the sun was streaming onto his bed. "Well, he's alive!" A voice rang out, echoing inside Harry's head.

"Shush!" A female voice scolded, "He should be sleeping."

"He's been sleeping all weekend." The first, male voice said, "He should wake up and see the sun." Harry recognized Alex's voice.

"And what are you two doing here?" Harry asked, slowly sitting up. "Saying hi and that the nurse is asking you to leave, so she can label the bed as yours." Alex replied, without missing a beat.

"Well, I'm going to need to get moving then." Harry said, as Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, shooing the two others along as she checked on her patient.

 **A/N: And this is my first new piece of content in a long time. Hopefully, I can get one more chapter up before school starts up, but don't count on it. Review please!**


	10. Chapter 9: The Dueling Competition

**A/N: *emerges from underneath piles of schoolwork* Oh, hi. I'm sorry that I haven't been around too much but, school has lots of work attached to it. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.**

 **Chapter Nine: The Dueling Competition**

The first of December hit Hogwarts with a wall of snow. They woke up to find three feet worth on the ground. Winds whipped up the snow into a frenzy, and tried to push students off of their feet as they walked the grounds to Hagrid's hut for their lessons, before retreating back to the relative safety of the castle.

Heading down for breakfast, on the fifth, Harry and his friends found the Americans were waiting for them, just inside of the foyer. Suddenly, Tegwen pounced on an unsuspecting Ron, who was walking ahead of the other group, grabbing him by the collar of his robe and slamming him against the stone wall.

"Your brother is Charlie Weasley, right?" She demanded. "He takes care of dragons?" Ron whimpered, in both pain and affirmation. "You tell that brother of yours that I am going to punch him in the face for what he put those dragons through. I will not stand for such harsh treatment, not while I'm still alive to hear of it!"

Ron nodded again, as Angus dragged his assailant away, sitting her down on the opposite side of the hall and firmly speaking with her. With Nova's help, she eventually calmed down, and joined the group again. Breakfast was pleasant from there on and Harry headed out into the storm, towards Hagrid's hut. Despite the suspiciously rocking boxes around the back of the hut, Harry was able to pay attention as Hagrid talked to them about bowtruckles, which despite a few being able to be found in the trees, had all seemed to have gone into hibernation.

Afterwards, Harry trekked back into the school amidst the howling winds, joining his friends, minus Hermione, for lunch, when said girl sat down between him and Neville. "And where has the mysterious Hermione Granger been?" Harry asked. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, before Neville cut across her.

"Wait, Harry. My inner eye! It sees! She was in the library!" The boys, joined by Alex, laughed until Hermione playfully smacked their arms and Nova smacked Alex.

"What was that for, woman?" He groaned.

"Behave." She ordered. "Or I'll set Tegwen on you."

"Yes, mom." Alex replied, earning him another smack, and one from Tegwen too.

"As a matter of fact," Hermione continued, with a small smile, "I was signing up for a couple of the side competitions." At the confused look of the boys, both girls rolled their eyes.

"There were three side competitions introduced into the tournament. One each in Dueling, Potions, and Runes. And-"

"And you signed yourself up for all three?" Harry guessed. Hermione smiled at it.

"Exactly. The Dueling Competition is on the 11th. You can help me train, if you want."

"We would love to." Nova said, "Especially since I'm competing in it, as well. Let's meet up after class and we can see how well you do." The day passed in a blur for them and, soon enough, they were meeting in a deserted classroom on the third floor.

Angus and Alex had cleared it of all the desks and chairs, leaving a glowing 20 foot wide circle in the center. Nova squared off against Hermione, keeping a relaxed stance, while Hermione got ready to cast.

"Want to make a bet to the outcome?" Harry asked Neville.

"10 Galleons says Hermione wins." Neville whispered back, as Alex cleared his throat.

"On my signal...Ready...BEGIN!"

Hermione began casting in earnest, a couple good spells aimed at Nova's legs and wand. Nova grinned and side-stepped all the spells. Hermione kept casting and Nova kept dodging or blocking, returning a couple spells, until Hermione paused for a moment.

She was panting slightly and Harry saw the smirk on Nova's face before she went on the offensive, spells flying at the tired witch across from her. Hermione blocked most of them, before Nova finished the duel by casting a powerful Augamenti, soaking the floor and Hermione's hair, while a quick Glacius froze the water, both on the floor and that in her opponent's bushy hair, causing her to stagger, from the sudden weight, and fall on the ice. "Duel End!" Alex called, walking up and clapping while money exchanged hands in the background.

"Now, Hermione, what did you learn?" He asked, reaching out to help her stand up, while Nova set about fixing her hair.

"Falling on ice tends to hurt terribly." Hermione groaned, rubbing her lower back.

"That's close. Try again."

"I can change the environment that a duel is happening in?"

Alex smiled. "Absolutely. Duels are either about overpowering your opponent or out maneuvering them. Nova tried to show you both." Turning back to Nova, he asked, "And what did you think?"

Nova smiled, "She has a good knowledge of spells, but tends to be a bit unimaginative in their use." She smiled at the defeated look on Hermione's face.

"This was not meant to beat you down, Hermione. Just think over this stuff. Think of how you can use what you know to a greater array of challenges. An excellent intellect, without the wisdom to use it, is useless."

"Now, you should see what overpowering someone looks like. Harry, would you mind stepping up? I just need you to cast the strongest shield charm you can." Harry nodded and stood facing Nova. "Oh no, not me." Nova said with a smile, "You'll be facing off against Alex." Harry nodded, still undaunted. Alex stepped forward and drew a deep breath in, his eyes closed, before letting the breath out, his eyes snapping back open. He isn't just looking at me, Harry realized, he's trying to intimidate me.

Harry looked back, trying to remain cool, even as Alex kept eye contact with him. "Go!" Nova yelled, Harry throwing up a shield charm, while Alex cast a high-powered stunning spell. Harry felt the impact of the spell. He stumbled backwards, as his shield shattered with the sound of breaking glass. "Whoa! That's a strong stunner."

"Well, I went looking through old texts a couple years ago, and I found an old collection of studies that showed a correlation between physical fitness and magical prowess." Alex explained, smiling confidently. "So I developed a workout routine for myself, took some lessons at a nearby dojo, and here I am now. You guys are free to join me, if you want."

After considering it, everyone turned him down. Seeming to have expected this, he shrugged and joined in the discussion of how to help Hermione get better.

The next week passed with the dueling practice continuing. Hermione would duel with Harry, Alex, or Nova. All three had differing skills and helped her prepare against those who had the most experience. Harry could put large amounts of raw power behind his spells, Nova could cast very fast, and Alex specialized in spells that would be used to take her down hard and fast. For the occasional challenge, Tegwen would step in and go up against Hermione. She was very good at creatively dodging spells, either moving out of their way or turning them back upon the caster. Her own magic felt fueled by raw fury on her part, because they all were large and unstable. Angus acted like her coach from the side, helping her with reminders about form and technique. Something notable about this girl was that she never spoke a single word in her battles, choosing only to communicate through her eyes. This was obviously something that Alice enjoyed about the group, because she always made careful sketches as the duels went on.

By the weekend, Hermione was exhausted from the effort of dueling them, but she was getting better, more imaginative with her spells. She even was able to do what Nova called "spell chains". When Hermione had appeared ready to consult a book, Nova stopped her. "You already know what they are, you don't need to look that up. And nobody really writes down spell chains. It allows their opponents to read about them and counter future attempts."

The day of the tournament finally arrived and, after a quick breakfast, the Great Hall was cleared leaving the 128 competitors divided into 32 groups in order to initiate the dueling. Those duels were followed by another 32, to cut the number of combatants by half. The remaining would then fall into a 5-tier, single elimination style contest. Among the combatants that were in the first group, Harry recognized Daphne, Neville, and Susan Bones, a fourth year Hufflepuff that Neville liked. Harry laughed at the thought that Neville might have to face off against Susan. This time, with the other students being allowed in to watch, Harry finally saw how they kept track of who won and lost for the competition. All the duelists were outfitted with a leather harness, having numbers displayed above their heads. Understanding instantly what it meant, he tried to find some familiar faces among the remaining duelists. All his friends had survived to this round, although Tegwen had entered and been defeated. Even though, Harry didn't exactly consider her a friend.

30 minutes later, the battlefield had been reduced to eight potential victors: Nova, Malfoy, Hermione, a Beauxbaton student, Daphne, a Durmstrang student, Neville, and Susan. It had been decided that the last seven matches would take place individually and use much of the room available in the Great Hall, with Flitwick as the impartial judge.

Malfoy and Nova faced off against each other. "Bow." Flitwick called in his squeaky voice, to which Nova bowed low, while Malfoy merely inclined his head. The lack of respect that Malfoy was giving his opponent was known to everyone who watched these sorts of matches. "Wands at the ready." Draco pointed his out in front of him,adopting the stance of a fencer who was using a rapier, while Nova relaxed and waited for the word to begin.

"BEGIN!"

"Langlock!" Malfoy yelled. The spell hit and Nova's counter dinged from 10 to 9. Harry was not impressed. Now, Nova wouldn't be able to say the spells aloud, which Malfoy may believe would give him an advantage, and he would be dead wrong.

Malfoy's superior smile came on, thinking he had won before casting Stunning Spell at her. The fact that she dodged seem to surprise him, as Nova decided to end it a little bit slower than normal. She jumped around Draco's barrage of Stunning Spells and Stinging Hexes, merely dodging and sending out silent Augamenti charms, which seemed to only annoy Draco, who kept getting soaked and losing points.

Finally, as Malfoy stopped casting and looked away, Nova struck with a well-placed, high-powered Glacius, freezing the water on his robes and body, and freezing him in place. A smattering of applause greeted her, as Malfoy was ruled out. He was defrosted and grumbled about "cheating Americans" before sulking off to the stands that surrounded the dueling area.

Next, Hermione faced off against Maud Desjardins, the Beauxbaton student. She appeared to be rather bored about facing Hermione, though more from confidence in her ability than actually considering her to be a threat. But if she made the mistake to underestimate Hermione, Harry would let her do just that. It would be a good wake-up call to the rest.

They assumed their stances as Professor Flitwick called, "Bow! Ready...Begin!" And the silence descended, both witches staring each other down, daring the other to show their hand. Hermione fired a couple quick spells, which Maud defended against, before retaliating with her own. The small battle ensued for a couple minutes, before moving back to a staring contest.

Then he saw Hermione prepare a spell that she had been working on. Waving her wand in a zigzag motion before flicking it at the witch, she yelled, "Gravis Stupefy!" The red light left the end of her wand and streaked towards the other witch, who quickly pulled up a shield. But, instead of dissipating, the spell rebounded back at Hermione, who stepped out of the way and let it hit the magically erected, clear wall behind her, bouncing off it again. Harry grinned. They had been studying how to alter spells and here was a rather useful one that Hermione had come across.

However, it required a great deal of concentration, and you couldn't cast any other spell while you held it. The other girl still seemed puzzled by it and tried to step out of the way, only for it to rebound and hit her again, before Hermione released it and leaned over.

Unlike Harry, her magic reserves were only a little above average and she couldn't hold the spell long. But, she was able to leave the dueling arena victorious.

Then, Daphne and Ekel Yakovich, the Durmstrang student, stood facing each other. Harry felt a tiny pocket of fear open up in his stomach, before trying to quash it. She has routinely beaten you. She can handle herself. No matter what he told himself, he couldn't make it leave him alone completely.

"Bow! Ready...Begin!" Flitwick called and Ekel struck quickly and accurately, several spells flying quickly at Daphne. She calmly raised a shield and went about observing him. Harry knew this tactic well. She would let her opponent tire themselves out, while she observed the way they moved and attacked. After a few more minutes, she finally started dodging and Harry saw the end coming. As Ekel kept shooting spells of increasing lethality at her, she kept dodging with a grace that had Harry getting a little red in embarrassment. Finally, she shot out a quick stream of spells that distracted the male from her real attack. A well-timed attack on his footing and wand hand brought her to victory. The moody Durmstrang student sulked off to the stands, glaring daggers at her.

Harry grinned and stifled a laugh at the match that he had seen coming and knew would provide him with hours of entertainment; Susan and Neville, two people who had been exchanging glances at each other for three years. It would be quite interesting to see how they did against each other when looking at the other made them blush. Both stepped up to face the other, bowed when they were supposed to, and then when given the signal,began one of the shortest duels.

While Neville had been able to fight his way through the previous combatants, it was only because he could keep a level head. But here he could do no such thing. In fact, the stunning spell he fired knocked him off the platform, making Susan the winner, though she didn't know it until she heard the clapping and looked up.

Susan and Daphne took the platforms next, both bowing when instructed before assuming their ready stance. Susan lowered her center of gravity while Daphne bounced on the balls of her feet a bit. Flitwick counted them down, and as they began, Daphne immediately went to her knees, firing off a couple spells, before rolling off tothe side, dodging around Susan's spells. Watching them, Harry noticed that they weren't taking it too seriously, which he could understand. There were three Hogwarts competitors compared to the single Salem dueler. Having seemed to finally get bored, Daphne sent a low tripping jinx that Susan got hit by, and just laid on the floor. Smiling, Daphne helped Susan up and they both walked off as the penultimate duel was set up.

Hermione and Nova stood facing each other, no tension between them. To Hermione, it was simply going to be a measure of how good she had gotten. For Nova, it would just be another practice duel.

"Just remember what we discussed." She told Hermione, who nodded, smiling.

"BOW…READY...BEGIN!"

Hermione fired off a couple spells, side stepping Nova's spells. She and Nova danced around, before Hermione summoned a large cloud of smoke, obscuring the crowd's view and her opponent's. Nova quickly blew the smoke away, only to find herself alone. Smiling, Nova closed her eyes, adopting a look of deep concentration. A few seconds later, Nova smiled, her arms coming up in a position of surrender as Hermione faded back into view from underneath the disillusionment charm, grinning ear to ear.

"Winner, Hermione Granger." Flitwick called, "Now, we will have a ten minute break, for the competitors to rest."

"Excellently done, Hermione." Alex said, "I see you have learned well. Now, you've just got one more to beat."

"And I will." She replied, a hard determination shining in her eyes.

Daphne and Hermione faced off against each other, both smiling at the other. While it had most of the guys fooled, many of the women could feel the tension behind the facades.

"Snedronningen..." Hermione said, with a small curtsy. And just like that, Daphne's smile vanished, replaced by a hard scowl. Whatever Hermione had said, had struck a nerve and Harry wasn't sure that was a good idea.

"BOW...READY...BEGIN!" And just like that, the duel began.

Light flashed everywhere, spells spoken at an almost unintelligible speed. And as spells flew, both witches never stood still, always moving around, trying to gain the upper hand. Hermione had stopped smiling too, a grimace on her face as she tried to corner her opponent. Both stopped, panting from the strain physically and magically. A few minutes later though, they were back to casting spells at each other. However, they were slower, turning the fight to a real strategic match as opposed to trying to overpower the other. After five minutes, last spells stopped and both girls were panting heavily before they both collapsed to their knees, and then their sides. Nova, Alex, and Harry were quickly up and hurrying to them.

"Ha, serves the Mudblood bitch right." A voice drawled and both Harry and Alex stopped. Harry rounded on Draco with a fury in his eyes, ready to punch him at the next word he said. But he stopped when a hand went to his shoulder. Looking back, he saw Alex standing there with an unreadable expression.

"Harry, Madame Pomfrey needs help."

Harry began to protest before the grip tightened. "I will speak with Mr. Malfoy about his distasteful comment." As Harry moved off, Alex took a deep breath and slowly began walking towards Malfoy. "Would you mind repeating that?" He asked, and everyone felt the temperature drop.

Well, everyone except for Malfoy, who responded with, "I called her a Mudblood, just as her ilk deserve to be called."

"I see...Well, if I know your customs here well enough, let me just say two words: Honor Duel. You have spat on her honor and, as a close friend, I challenge you to one such duel in her stead." The air stopped, as the situation hit everyone. Malfoy had made him an enemy of the Salem Champion and now, he had been called out to show his stuff. If he accepted, he would lose. And if he declined...

"I accept." Several faces paled at Draco's words.

"Professor Flitwick," Alex called, "Would you please officiate?"

"Of course." Was the reply, as he shook himself out of the shock. "This is an Honor Duel. The match will end when one party submits or is unable to continue. Duelists, to your marks." Alex stood at one end of the hall, while Malfoy went to the other. "Bow." Both did so, with varying degrees of respect. "Ready...BEGIN!"

"Langlock!" Malfoy's spell zoomed over at Alex, who didn't move, before finally leaning his head to the right as the spell missed.

"Really? Is that it?" Alex asked, pulling his cloak off. "Diffindo." The cloak was split into two. "Reformabit ferro." The two pieces of the cloak reformed into two katar, which he then put on his hands. "Ready?"

Draco stared at him, gobsmacked, along with most of the crowd. "What are those?"

"Katar. Have you never seen them before?" Draco started firing spells at him rapid-fire, while Alex cut through them with his katar. Smiling, almost manically, he lunged at Draco, or rather next to Draco, cutting through his robes. As Draco tried to round on him, Alex leaned out of the way, staying to Malfoy's side or back. Alex kept dancing around him, cutting his robes repeatedly, before the katar became fabric again and Alex socked Draco in the jaw.

"HALT!" A yell came from the stands. "How dare you lay a finger on my son!?" Lucius Malfoy strode down from his seats. "You dare-"

"Who're you?" Alex groaned, not interested in dealing with any upset parents.

"Lucius Malfoy, the father of the boy you have hit. Your actions are in direct violation of dueling etiquette. Such brutish actions are to-"

"Professor Flitwick," Alex cut across Lucius, "was there anything illegal about what I just did?"

The Charms Professor looked thoughtful for a moment, before responding, "There are no strict rules that state there may be no physical contact and I never laid any rules forbidding physical contact, as such, there is no punishment. However, Mr. Malfoy is correct about dueling etiquette."

Lucius looked furious that there would be no punishment, while Alex shrugged off the remark about proper etiquette, before rushing off to join the others in the Hospital Wing.

 **A/N: Yes, I am aware that this isn't the best. Feel free to crap all over it. I will take criticisms constructively.**


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